There is no law against visiting the West Bank (and if there was it would be an unjust law of which there are many here) but even still if I said I was entering Israel to visit the West bank 9 times out of 10 they would not let me into the country and there is no way to enter the West Bank without entering Israel.
The reasons for this are pretty simple. Israel does not want the international community to know what is really going on here because it is so unjustifiably unjust, so they make difficult for people to come see. We, the internationally complicit Western we, have a reasonability to know what is going on in Occupied Palestine, especially coming from the United States (3 billion a year in military aid to Israel, remember that) so I put aside my own discomfort (but not the butterflies in my stomach) which, pales in comparison and lie my heart out.
Jordan was beautiful. Lots of hiking, I can’t really do that in the West Bank. Those pesky closed military zones, checkpoints and the separation wall kind of put the kibosh on freedom of movement. It was a little sad to be so close to Palestine and realize a bit more of what is lost under occupation.
So here are some photos of touristy me.
Our guide in Wadi Rum, Ibrahim. Most of the people we interacted with in Jordan were from three different Beduin communities. The Beduin in Jordan have certainly, like indigenous nomadic people in all parts of the world, gotten the short end of the stick from their governments in many ways. But it was also heartening to see some situations where they have managed to maintain control over their land and way of life to some degree.
Camel riding. It's an acquired skill as my bruised backside can attest to.
Petra, it is amazing. The throngs of tourists who visit are out of their minds. The friend who I traveled with got a picture of some chickens wondering around the ruins and then realized that in the background was a group of tourists. The metaphor was too perfect.
This goat had quite the racket going on mooching from picnickers. Also some plump cats ruled various sections of the ruins and meowed for their ample lunches. The cats aren't nearly as chubby here in Dheisheh.
On returning to Israel through the border crossing at Arava I was reminded again of the racist nature of the Israeli state. There is really no other way to describe it.
I got through the border extremely quickly. In part because after the lying I was able to say I was going to visit a Kibbutz (true, for one night, more about that in my next post) partly because the last three questions passport control asked me were my father’s name, Jerold, my grandfather’s name “Abraham” and my families religion “Jewish”. If my answers had been Mohamed, Ibrahim and Muslim I may very well not be sitting here in the West Bank writing this now.
Mostly though I think getting through so easy was just luck. If Israel wanted to know why I was really here they certainly have the capability of seeing through my weak tourist façade. However, the nature of the occupation is not complete control, which is impossible but a inconsistent unknowable control which helps to reinforce self-policing by citizens. Like I’ve been told by many, the border control, separation wall (which remains incomplete) and IDF presence don’t keep out potential suicide bombers. If someone wants to kill themselves, they can get in and kill themselves. What it does is destroy any ability of citizens (Palestinians) who don’t want to kill themselves, who want to try and live their lives, to do so.
The occupation is at its heart not about Israeli security it is about, like what all apartheids are about, subjugation of the colonized population (Palestinians) and maintenance of inequality between colonized and colonizer.
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