Middle East In the Eye Of a Revolt

(3 of 7)
Despite the repression, morale in Gaza remains high. In one crowded home in the huge Jabalia camp, Zainab, a widow of 50, and her five children said they were determined to keep up the protest despite the Israeli crackdown. Her son Jawad, 17, has already served several jail terms for his anti-Israeli activities, and is willing to risk more. "Let it be known to the Israelis that we are strong," Jawad told a visitor. "We are capable of confronting them on all fields. We are not going to run away as the Egyptian army did in 1967." Asked what his goals were, Jawad replied, "Very simple. I want to turn the Palestinian problem into a severe headache in every Israeli head."

In the West Bank there was less turmoil but no less resolve to defy Israeli authority. At the central square in Am'ari, a refugee camp on the road between Jerusalem and Ramallah, the shabab gathered, young men ranging in age from 15 to 30. The camp, which houses 5,000 people, is a concrete maze with open sewers running down each alleyway. "No matter what time the army comes, we come out and start confronting them," said Osama Nijim, 23. It has become a way of life, the only way of life in recent weeks, when work has been scarce because of strikes, and soldiers are everywhere.

At Osama's house several twists and turns away from the square, his mother, father and sisters crowded into the living room, and tea was served. The room was a chilly concrete square furnished with plush red sofas and a cabinet full of china figurines. Osama unwound a red-and-white-checked kaffiyeh from his head as he began talking. He was fresh out of jail, having served 14 days for throwing a tear-gas canister back at Israeli soldiers. "The army is the provocation," he said. "The fact that they come into our camp is enough so that the shabab react by throwing stones." Osama admitted to being a provocateur. "Since he was a kid, he has belonged to the profession of stone thrower," said his friend Tarek Ali, 18, with some reverence.

The sound of a helicopter overhead drowned out conversation and seemed to please Osama. "They prove that we Palestinians are capable of confronting them, that we are strong enough so they have to bring in helicopters against our stone throwers." Though he said he had been harassed most of his life by the Israelis, he insisted he did not hate them. "But we are committed to achieve a homeland for the Palestinians with our own flag, just like you live in America with your own flag."

Suddenly a tear-gas canister struck the window, and peppery fumes wafted in. The women wrapped scarves around their faces, the men their kaffiyehs. Soon came the sound of rubber bullets ricocheting off the walls outside, then the shuffle of feet running for cover. "I have no future," said Tarek Ali matter of factly. "How can I, as long as I am not liberated from this occupation?"

Osama told of the folk remedies used to ward off Israel's punitive measures: onions for the eyes, lemons for the stomach to counter the effect of tear gas. There is no remedy for the rubber bullets, which burn the skin and sometimes break bones. The day before, Osama noted, soldiers threw rocks at the shabab from their helicopters. When it gets too rough, he said, "we run away for a while, then get together again to wait for the next time."