Less than human
In the town of Bethlehem which once gave birth to love and reconciliation in a manger, there now breeds hatred and despair next to the thick Wall.
One used to say that the best way to make a human being an enemy is to make him or her something less than human. At Checkpoint 300, the
entrance and exit from Bethlehem to Jerusalem, this happens every day. Checkpoint 300 is one of over 600 checkpoints which have been built to control Palestinians when they enter Israel and when they travel around the Occupied Palestinian Territories. This checkpoint, commonly referred
to as ‘the terminal’, was opened in November 2005 and is considered to be one of the most modern of its kind.
When I arrive there on Thursday morning, shortly before five o’clock, the queue is winding, as every weekday, hundreds of meters alongside the
wall and out onto the street. Approximately 500 worried and anxious pairs of eyes greet me. The checkpoint is supposed to be open 24 hours a
day, but when I ask a soldier why they haven’t opened yet, she answers: “the Palestinians don’t have a permit to be in Jerusalem before five o’clock in the morning.”
It is very complicated to get a permit to go to Jerusalem. The dehumanization begins with applying for it. In order to be considered one cannot have a criminal record and he or she must have a specific reason for going, which is often work or health related. Far away from Bethlehem, in a
tin shed in the middle of nowhere, people line up in the heat to get a permit to visit a town that should be only a ten-minute ride away. Even if a
permit is issued, which often it is not, it is only valid for a maximum of three months.
Finally the little wrought-iron gate in the wall opens. The whole thing reminds me of cattle on their way to slaughter. One after another the Palestinian workers push through the iron rotator and show their permit to the Israeli soldier sitting behind dark bullet-proof glass. On a good day this is followed by 45 minutes of waiting to reach control point two.
Control point two is an extremely sensitive metal detector. All the Palestinians are forced to take off their belt, shoes, watch – everything. There are also other kinds of ‘special treatment’ which are not a part of the equipment of the checkpoint. They are a part of the soldiers’ capacity to make the Palestinians into something less than human. I witnessed this last Thursday morning. A young Palestinian on his way to work in Tel Aviv had queued for almost one hour when he finally reached the metal detector. Suddenly a tourist group, escorted by a soldier came by. The soldier forced everyone to step back and let the tourist group go through. The young Palestinian was upset about this and questioned the actions of the soldier.
When he finally got through to the other side of the metal detector and started queuing for the last point of control, where identity cards and permits are thoroughly examined, the soldier started to push him. A second later, the soldier threw him to the ground and seized him by the throat. The young Palestinian barely resisted when the soldier twisted his hands, handcuffed him and twisted his hands again until I could hear what sounded like bones breaking. The young Palestinian was then removed to another room. I asked what was happening, and the soldier told me: “it’s none of your business”, and threw me out of the checkpoint.
I believe that while the checkpoint makes Palestinians something less than human beings in the soldiers’ eyes, the soldiers also become something less than human beings in the Palestinians eyes. To be defined every day as a potential terrorist and to see the other as such doesn’t give birth to reconciliation. This ‘security device,’ that should prevent Palestinians from carrying out deeds of hatred against Israel is instead increasing the hatred on both sides.
After having watched them lead the young Palestinian away, I meet the fear in the remaining soldier’s eye and suddenly I see something else. I realize that the big challenge at this, as at other checkpoints, is to see that the victim is not so different from the perpetrator, that all are human beings. But that insight requires that I make a choice: to lower my eyes or to raise them.
