Home > Rubriques > Languages - International > English > “Shut up, I am not your friend”

Ignominie !

“Shut up, I am not your friend”

Version en arabe sous le texte en anglais, puis second article en anglais

Sunday 11 February 2007

A true story about the ignominy our people in Palestine are living daily…

Who is the terrorist?

Who is the racist?

Who is the anti-Semite?

Who lived the holocaust before the Nazi holocaust and is still living it long after?

For Palestine

Hebrew: "Shikit eni lau 7afir Shalkha"

That is in English: "Shut up, I am not your friend"

By: Amjad Samhan

Occupied Palestine

Translated from Arabic by: Adib S. Kawar

What does ignominy mean? Or what is the most ignominious seen in history? Or what is the best way to humiliate a human being? To hang a great leader? To dishonor a man and oblige him to watch the seen? Force him to drink his urine? Or to build Zionist colonies? Is possible that none of these is the right meaning of ignominy. We are talking about humiliating a father and a son at a checkpoint by some body who claims to be a Semite, and the aim is to have a “good time”, just for the sake of entertainment!!!

One day in Palestine and the time is six AM Jerusalem time, the father and his son left home distracted to walk a mere fifty meters towards the checkpoint, they were on their way to work in a Zionist “settlement”/colony that was erected on their own stolen land, just to allay their and their family’s hunger or just to keep existing. The father was thinking of Haifa, 3kka, Jaffa and Nazareth, to return to his hometown that is there and not, a man fifty years old who sustains a family of ten…

To tell the truth I don’t know the names of the father and the son, but I know the story from a friend of mine. What happened never occurred to both of them; they left home with a cigarette and a lighter in their pockets in addition to their identity cards and miserable permits. They left towards God’s face, the check point and the damned colony. As for God’s face it was out of sight, the check point is right there in front of us, but the colony is our desired aim for either to be uprooted or for providing us with our daily bread… if and when they reach it. They arrived at the check point and sat there on a nearby rock waiting for their tern to come. Each smoked a cigarette, a second, a third and the tenth waiting for the queue to end. The bitter cold contrary to the usual burned their faces that became bleu/blackish, their hands shaking as if a mother is telling farewell to her martyred son… their breathing sporadic mixed with the vapor rising from their empty bellies…

They sat on that rock waiting and chatting about our today’s difficult task, as their job is bleaching the houses being built in the colonies built on their own stolen land… They are obliged to do this work, because they have to feed all the hungry bellies of those they left behind in the house. The chatting jumped to the future: The father said, “My son, you grew up and became a man, oh God, we want to see you married and have your own family”.

The waiting today became longer then the usual, but at last their turn came. The father said, “Oh God, it seems that they changed the soldiers at the checkpoint, God forbids, new soldiers and look very dirty”, The son replied they are all the same, were those who were before them any better”?! He replied, “But they used to know us, and let us pass quickly”. The son replied, “Father the let us pass or not its all the same”. The father replied, “Stop talking boy, we want to pass and work to earn some money to east and smoke”.

One of the soldiers shouted: “You donkey come here”. He said it with lack of concern, naivety and in a Hebrew tone. The father said, “I told you that they are dirty”. The soldier said, “Give the identity card”, and the father replied, “faka sha 7afir” meaning, pleas, here it is friend. The soldier snapped in Hebrew: "Shikit eni lau 7afir Shalkha", that is in English: "Shut up, I am not your friend".

The soldier took the two cards and went to where the rest of unit was pretending to be doing a security checking. That took a long time; The son got fed up, while the father was silently praying: “There is no God but God… God is great, let’s finish, we want to go to work to make some money, and we don’t have bread…” The son got fed up further, and walked to where the soldiers were standing to explain to them that were coming from a near by place, and that they cross from here daily. He didn’t expect what the soldiers’ reaction will be. They became furious as if out of habit! They started cursing him, which was not enough for them, one of them ran to me and hit him with the butt of his rifle in the middle of his face, blood burst out and he started crying and shouting from pain. His father interfered, beseeching mercy, but instead of listening, they started whipping him from all sides, blood came out from all over them while still cursing and shouting…

They didn’t calm down, they continued beating and eating, up till they got tired, and the seen came to an end.

One of the soldiers shouted, “A good beating, Arabs, cows animals, ah?”

Another soldier, “Good day, look at them they are like dogs”.

A third said, “This is how to teach them an unforgettable lesson, they are forbidden to ask questions, we only ask”.

A fourth said, “That is enough let them pass”.

An officer said, “A moment, the father and the son should learn how to wait for a million years without asking”. He proceeded, “Boy do you want to pass, or shall we resume the beating?”

He replied, “Please let us pass”.

The officer said, “Spit in your father’s face, then we will allow you to pass”.

He snapped, “I don’t want”.

Five soldiers resumed beating them, blood burst out mixed with tears, every one in the waiting queue silent and afraid while facing the armed boys, they were of course unarmed. The result: The seen continued… and ignominy also continued. The seen continued for one or two hours, God knows for exactly how long, and it is not important, soldiers were ordering the son again and again to spit in his father’s face, and he was refusing, and the beating continues.

At the end, what is the solution? He was refusing and they were insisting, but this time it was the father’s insistence to began, he crawled towards his son and begged him to spit in his face, he refused, and he insisted once twice ten time one hundred times, beating continued, when the soldiers got tired they would rest to start again, whipping, kicking with their feet, hitting with the butts of their rifles, spitting directly into their faces and stepping on their heads with their boots.

At last the son got tired and his father was about to die, he begged, “spit in my face, or I will die, I can’t bear it any more”.

He started crying, hitting his face, he felt that the devil approaching his father, then he gathered the last bit of strength in him and what ever saliva was in his mouth mixed with tears and spat in his father’s face… The story ended…

A while later the ambulance came and took them to the hospital, where they were treated, and returned home without the desired money… The son is still crying up till today, He deserted his house and his family, and lived in a far away place not daring to look into his father’s eyes, and he is still looking for a way to revenge for their ignominy…

*

If any body thinks that this is a fabricated story, red here below:

Why Was the Palestinian Mother of Eleven Murdered?
by: Paul Findley

من هو الإرهابي؟

من هو العنصري؟

من هو اللاسامي؟

من الذي عاش المحرقة قبل المحرقة النازية ولا يزال يعيشها بعدها؟

إلى فلسطين
«شيكت اني لو حفير شلخا»،

أي: «اخرس، لست صديقك»

أمجد سمحان

فلسطين المحتلة

مواطن فلسطيني في القدس القديمة -(رويترز)

ما هو تعريف الذل؟ أو ما هو المشهد الأكثر إذلالاً في التاريخ؟ أو ما هي أفضل الطرق لإذلال إنسان؟ شنقه بعدما كان زعيماً يصول ويجول، أم هتك عرضه أمام عينيه، أم جعله يشرب بوله؟ ربما غاب تعريف الذل عن هذه المعاني وكل المعاني التي خلقها الله على وجه بسيطته. نتحدث عن إذلال الأب والابن على حاجز، وحاجز على وزن فاعل، والفاعل هنا هم أولاد العم، والدوافع هي التسلية.
في تاريخ يوم من فلسطين، وفي ساعة لم تتعدَ السادسة صباحاً بتوقيت القدس، خرج الابن شارد الذهن خمسين متراً إلى الأمام، حيث يبعد الحاجز عن منزله، ذاهبا لِلملمة لقمة العيش في مستوطنة تستلقي فوق أرضه السليبة. أبوه أيضاً استيقظ مشتت الذهن كما حياته، يفكر في حيفا وعكا والعودة الغائبة الحاضرة. وببقايا سنوات عمره الخمسين، يحاول إعالة أسرة من عشرة.
في الحقيقة، لا أعرف اسم الأب أو الابن، لكني أعرف القصة التي رواها لي أحد الأصدقاء. فما حصل لم يخطر على بال الأب أو الابن، إذ خرج الاثنان وفي جيبهما سيجارة وولاعة وهوية بائسة وتصريح. خرجا يقصدان وجه الله والحاجز والمستعمرة. أما وجه الله فهو غائب عن العين، وأما الحاجز فهو الآن أمامهما، وأما المستعمرة فهي الهدف المنشود إما بالإزالة أو بتوفير لقمة العيش. وصلا وتربعا فوق صخرة قريبة، دخنا السيجارة الأولى والثانية والعاشرة، وهما بانتظار انتهاء الطابور. أحرقتهما البرودة على عكس عادتها، فالوجوه أصبحت قاتمة زرقاء تميل إلى السواد، والأيدي ترتجف كما يدا أمٌ تودّع نجلها الشهيد، والنفـــَس متقطـــِّع، ممزوج ببخار الماء الخارج من جوفين وأمعاء فارغة خاوية كما عروش فلسطين.
جلسا فوق الصخرة وتبادلا أطراف الحديث عن مهمة اليوم الشاقة، حيث كانا يعملان في قصارة المنازل، واليوم من المفترض أن يقبضا أموالاً لهما لسد أفواه من بقي في بيتهما من جياع. أطراف الحديث شردت إلى المستقبل: «يا الله يا ولدي، كبرت وصرت رجال، يا الله عشان نجوزك ونشوف أولادك».
«الله يخليك يا أبي ويديمك إلنا».
طال الوقت هذه المرة أكثر من المعتاد، لكنه انتهى بوصول دورهما. الأب: «أوف شكلهم غيروا الجنود على الحاجز، الله يستر، جنود جداد وشكلهم وسخين على الآخر». الولد: «يا أبي كلو زي بعضو، يعني اللي قبل كانوا احسن؟». الأب: «بس كانوا يعرفونا، ويمرقونا بسرعة». الولد: «يا سيدي مرقونا ما مرقونا زي بعض». الأب: «اسكت يا ولد، بدنا نمرق ونقبض، معناش ندخن».
«هي انت، حمار، تعال هون».
قالها الجندي ببرود وسذاجة وبلكنة عبرية. الأب: «قلتلك هدول وسخين». الجندي: «هات هوية». الأب: «فا كا شا حفير»، وبالعربية تعني: «تفضل يا صديق». الجندي: «شيكت اني لو حفير شلخا»، وبالعربية تعني: «اخرس أنا لست صديقك».
أخذ الجندي الهويتين وراح إلى حيث بقية الدورية بدعوى أنه يجري فحصاً أمنياً. طال الوقت، ملّ الولد، والأب يسبــّح الله في عقله: «لا اله إلا الله، الله اكبر، يا الله خلصونا بدنا نروح نقبض مفش عنا خبز». نفد صبر الولد، توجه إلى حيث الجنود سائلاً عن سبب التأخير غير المبرر، شارحاً أنه آتٍ من مكان قريب، وهو يمر يومياً بالحاجز، وهنا وقع ما لم يكن في الحسبان.
ثار الجنود كما لو أنهم دخلوا معركة عن غير عادة. صرخوا في وجه الولد وشتموه، ولم يكتفوا بذلك، فاقترب احدهم مسرعاً، وبكعب البندقية ضربه في وسط الوجه. سال دم الولد، وراح يصرخ من شدة الألم. تدخل الأب متوسلاً، دخل هو الآخر في القفص، وراح يُجلد من الجهات الأربع، تناثرت الدماء، والصرخات أيضاً.
لم يهدأ الجنود، ظلوا يضربون ويضربون، حتى تعبوا، وتوقف المشهد.
أحد الجنود: «هه، قتلة مرتبة، عرب بقر حيوانات».
جندي آخر: «يوم سعيد، انظر إليهما مثل الكلاب».
جندي ثالث: «هكذا تلقن العرب دروساً، ممنوع عليهم السؤال، نحن فقط نسأل».
جندي رابع: «يكفي، دعهم يمروا».
الضابط: «لحظة، الأب وابنه، لازم يتعلموا كيف يستنوا مليون سنة بدون ما يسألوا».
الضابط : «ولد، تعال إلى هنا، تريد أن تمر، أو نضربك مجددا».
الولد : «بدي امرق دخيلك».
الضابط: «ابصق في وجه أبيك نجعلك تمر».
الولد: «ما بدي».
خمسة جنود مرة أخرى انهالوا عليه وعلى أبيه بالضرب. دماء تطايرت الى السماء، وامتزجت بالدموع. وقف الحضور صامتاً مرعوباً، العراة في وجه السلاح، والنتيجة: الذل متواصل والمشهد يتكرر. استمرت الحال على هذا النحو مدة ساعة أو ساعتين، لا يهم، الجنود يأتون الولد: «تريد أن تمر، ابصق في وجه أبيك»، الولد يرفض، القتلة تتجدد.
في النهاية، ما الحلّ؟ صعب التفكير مع الألم والدم، صعب البحث عن حل، الجنود يصرون والولد يصر، لكن هذه المرة إصرار الأب هزم الجميع. زحف إلى ابنه: «ابصق في وجهي يا أبي». الولد رفض، الأب توسل، مرة وعشرة وألفا، تكرر مشهد القتلة، كلما تعب الجنود استراحوا، وأعادوا الجلد بالأقدام وأعقاب البنادق، والبصق على الوجوه مباشرة، والدوس على الرأس بالأقدام.
مرة أخرى وأخيرة، وهنا الولد تعب، تعب كثيراً والأب أوشك على لفظ أنفاسه الأخيرة، توسل الأخير: «يا أبي ابصق في وجهي أو بموت، أنا مش قادر أتحمل».
الولد حشر في نفسه، بكى، جاح، لطم خدوده، أحس بعزرائيل يقترب من أبيه، استجمع ما في جوفه من ريق، ونثره على وجه أبيه، امتزج البصق بالدموع والدماء، وانتهت الحكاية.
بعد قليل، جاء الإسعاف ونُقل الولد والابن الى المستشفى، تم علاجهما، عادا إلى البيت من دون قبضة، والولد يبكي حتى يومنا، وقد هجر بيته وأهله، وراح يعيش في مكان بعيد لا يجرؤ على النظر في عيني الوالد، يبحث عن وسيلة للانتقام.
(فلسطين المحتلة)

http://world.mediamonitors.net/content/view/full/40707

Why Was the Palestinian Mother of Eleven Murdered?
by: Paul Findley

(Wednesday February 07 2007)


"U.S. media are generally brave, except where Israel is concerned. So are members of Congress. So is the presidency. And the rest of us? Almost everyone is afraid to criticize Israel, no matter how barbaric its behavior."


Alison Weir, a California journalist and activist who chronicles the bias in U.S. media coverage of Middle East events, bestirred many Americans—perhaps many thousands—in early October with a powerful, chilling Internet account of the largely unreported murder of a Palestinian mother of 11 children by Israeli soldiers in Gaza.

Itemad Ismail Abu Mo’ammar was fatally shot while trying to rescue her deaf husband from a severe beating by Israeli soldiers, who were furious because he did not answer their questions.

Weir wrote:

“Foolishly or valiantly, how is one to say, the 35-year-old woman interfered. She tried to explain that her husband was deaf and couldn’t hear their questions. Then she attempted to stop them from hitting him. So they shot her. Several times. She didn’t die, though. That took longer, because the soldiers refused to allow an ambulance to transport her to a physician. Finally, after approximately five hours, one was permitted to take her to a hospital where physicians were able to render one service: pronounce her dead. Why did this all happen? The family lived behind the residence of a resistance fighter wanted by Israel. The death of Itemad was simply ‘collateral damage’ in a failed Israeli assassination-kidnapping operation.”

Weir searched major U.S. media—broadcast and print—from coast to coast, and found Itemad’s death reported in only three newspapers, a single-sentence notice in each. One of the three, The Washington Post, reported inaccurately that the woman was killed by an Israeli tank round. After exchanging messages with Weir, the Post cleared for publication her letter that explained that multiple bullets, fired close up—not a tank round—were the cause of death. But the Post reneged. The letter was not published. Why? Weir’s explanation: “After all, these were only Palestinians, and it was just another mother dead.”

Ponder the “why” of the shooting. Although the distraught woman struggled to get the armed soldiers to stop beating her deaf husband, she surely posed no physical threat to them. Even if they did not understand what she said, she was, at worst, an inconvenience, hardly deserving to be shot.

Now consider the “why” of the aftermath. Were the hearts of the Israeli squad so hardened that they could not act with compassion as the husband and children watched helplessly through unavailing tears as the woman bled to death? Why did they want her dead?

This Gaza atrocity is not an isolated aberration. Israeli brutality is commonplace, and so is American silence in response. What transformed the soldiers, their military superiors, as well as the civilian leaders of the Israeli government into callous brutes? Is the whole Israeli governmental system so corrupted with anti-Arab passion that mercy for a dying mother is nowhere to be found?

Other questions beg answers. Will the killers be punished or even rebuked? Will messages of regret, consolation, and—yes—compensation be sent to the survivors? Sadly, I know from the wells of memory the answer to these two questions is no.

Such messages should come from Washington, not just from Israel, as the guns and bullets used in the killing were almost certainly gifts of the U.S. government. Will the U.S. ambassador deliver messages to the aggrieved, as well as a threatening protest to Israeli officials, demanding an end to the brutal treatment of innocent people? Here again, the answer is no.

Why the cover-up in major U.S. media? The awful circumstances of Itemad’s death were not reported, because major media are afraid—yes, afraid—to feature Israeli criminal behavior. Israel’s influence is suffocating. Imagine the intense, sustained coverage that would have dominated major media if the roles in Gaza had been reversed, with a dying Israeli woman denied medical service for hours by Palestinians who had shot her at close range for no good reason.

U.S. media are generally brave, except where Israel is concerned. So are members of Congress. So is the presidency. And the rest of us? Almost everyone is afraid to criticize Israel, no matter how barbaric its behavior.

U.S. silence in the face of an Israeli atrocity is a green light to more crime. If we look at our own hands, we may find a trace of Itemad’s blood right there in plain sight.


Reprinted with permission from the Washington Report on Middle East Affairs (WRMEA)

"Whereas it is essential, if man is not to be compelled to have recourse, as a last resort, to rebellion against tyranny and oppression, that human rights should be protected by the rule of law" (From Preamble to the Universal Declaration of Human Rights of 1948)
.

___ حتى متى يمكن لدولة أن تبقي أصابع مواطنيها، كل مواطنيها،
على زناد بنادقهم في محيط معاد أوجدت نفسها فيه
بقوة السلاح وإرهاب الدولة؟

أ.ق.

For how long can a state keep the finger of its permanently
mobilized citizenry’ on the trigger in the hostile environment in which it placed itself by the force of arms and state terror?
A.S.K.