Currently, Barghouti is the Secretary-General of the Palestinian National Initiative, a political party that was formed in 2002 with Edward Said, Dr. Haidar Abdel-Shafi and Ibrahim Dakkak. The Initiative (al-Mubadara in Arabic) calls for nonviolent resistance against the Israel occupation of the West Bank and Gaza.

Worldfocus producer Mohammad al-Kassim recently interviewed Barghouti in New York. The rising Palestinian politician talks openly about the difficulties facing the Middle East process, infighting among Palestinians and the Obama administration. Despite all the obstacles, Barghouti feels surprisingly positive about the future.

Also, listen to Barghouti on Worldfocus Radio: Jerusalem United or Divided?

Tunnels near Rafah.

On Monday, one day before U.S. President Barack Obama was scheduled to meet in New York with the leaders of Israel and the Palestinian Authority, Israel’s air force launched an attack on Palestinian targets in the southern Gaza Strip.

The targets were three tunnels Israel says are used to smuggle arms into Gaza across the border from Egypt. The Israeli army said the attack was a response to rockets fired into Israel by Palestinian militants from Gaza over the weekend.

Meanwhile, Palestinian Authority President Mahmoud Abbas met in Cairo with Egypt’s president Hosni Mubarak. Abbas repeated the Palestinian position that negotiations with Israel cannot resume without an agreement by Israel to freeze Jewish settlements in the West Bank and Arab East Jerusalem.

If Israel imposes a freeze on all settlement construction, are you confident there would be a peace deal between the Israelis and Palestinians?

Tell us what you think in the comments section below. Please remember to be respectful and on-point in your comments. Malicious or offensive comments will be deleted and repeat offenders will be banned.

Photo courtesy of Flickr user Marius Arnesen under a Creative Commons license.

They look at President Barack Obama’s reversal on a missile defense plan for Europe, the battle against Islamic militants and this week’s United Nations report on the war in Gaza — including charges that conduct by Israel and the Palestinian militants amounted to war crimes.

Abu Absal Shurrab stood in front of his red jeep  and waved energetically when he saw me. I walked towards him. “Salaam aleikum!” we greeted each other warmly, and Abu Absal indicated that I should get into the jeep.

Abu Absal stands next to the car that he and his sons were shot in.

My heart stopped momentarily as he stepped out of the way and the vehicle became fully visible. The windshield was splattered with bullet holes. This was the car Abu Absal was driving the day he was shot and his sons, Kassab and Ibrahim, were killed.

I climbed inside the passenger seat, trying to discreetly count the bullet holes as Abu Absal guided the car onto the road. Twenty that I could see, including the semi-shattered rear-view mirror. Abu Absal noticed my preoccupation.

“Kassab was sitting exactly where you are now,” he told me. “Ibrahim was in the back seat, directly behind him. When the shooting started, I shouted for them to crouch down low. But the bullets went through the front of the car. I tried to replace the windshield, but because of the siege, there is no glass available anywhere in Gaza Strip.”

The final days of 2008 and the first weeks of 2009 saw a large-scale Israeli military bombardment and invasion of Gaza Strip. Israel termed the incursion “Operation Cast Lead,” saying it was intended to protect the citizens of the southern community of Sderot, 24 of whom had been killed by Palestinian rocket fire from Gaza over the past eight years.

According to a recently released report by the Israeli human rights organization B’tselem, 1,387 Palestinians were killed during the 22-day attack, over half of them civilians, including more than 300 children. Several thousand more innocent people were injured, more than 3,000 homes were destroyed and 20,000 were damaged. United Nations schools, clinics and other humanitarian facilities were bombed.

On January 16, 2009, towards the end of the onslaught, I received an email with the horrifying subject line:

“Help me save my dad’s life.”

It was from Amer Shurrab. I’ve known Amer for 10 years, since he was 14 years old. Amer is from Khan Yunis, Gaza, but had recently graduated from Middlebury College and had just moved to Washington, D.C.

With dread, I opened the email. Amer wrote:

“My father’s car was bombed today, he was in it with two of my brothers. My older brother 27 was killed while my dad 64 and my little brother 17 have been bleeding for over 14 hours and Israeli troops blocking ambulances access.  Please contact any media outlets, your congressmen, senators, any international organizations and try to get them help.”

Several hours later, I got another email from Amer with more details about the incident and an update. The morning of the attack, his father and brothers had gone to check on their farm during the daily three-hour humanitarian “ceasefire.” On their way home, his father’s red jeep was bombarded by a hail of bullets from IDF troops who had commandeered a house approximately fifty meters away. Amer’s older brother, Kassab, was shot in the chest and stomach 18 times and died on the spot. His father was shot in the arm and his younger brother, Ibrahim, was shot below the knee.

Abu Absal shouted to the soldiers that he and his sons needed medical attention. They shouted back for him to call an ambulance. He did, via cell phone, but was told by the Red Crescent that the Israeli army would not permit them access. Abu Absal managed to contact media and human rights groups, who launched an immediate campaign to pressure the army to allow medical care to reach the wounded civilians. Nearly 24 hours later, the IDF permitted an ambulance to reach Abu Absal and his sons. By then it was too late for Amer’s younger brother. Ibrahim had already bled to death.

Abu Absal parked the jeep outside an apartment building in Khan Yunis. “Here’s where we live,” he told me. “Any time you are in Gaza, you should make this your home!” We climbed the steps and entered. Abu Absal introduced me cheerfully to his wife and his two daughters. Heaviness and grief was palpable in the home, especially in the eyes of Amer’s mother and sisters. Nevertheless, Abu Absal was determined that my visit be an occasion for happiness. He instructed me to sit in an easy chair, next to his.

“We must speak of many things!” Abu Absal said brightly. “Your visit is like a breeze of fresh air to the family. Only…” He leaned towards me and adopted the tone of a fatherly scolding. “You are not staying long enough! So early tomorrow morning we will visit the farm, before you have to return to Gaza City!”

“Do you go to the farm often?” I asked his university-aged daughter, hoping to engage her in the conversation.

“Not really,” she replied, barely making eye contact.

“The girls no longer like the farm,” Abu Absal explained. “They blame the farm for the death of their brothers. After all, if we hadn’t gone that morning…” He didn’t complete the sentence.

Abu Absal shows off his farm.

The sun was just beginning to rise the next morning when Abu Absal and I climbed back into his battered jeep.  The sandy roads of Khan Yunis were bathed in golden light and early morning silence. We turned off the main road after passing the European Hospital. Less than a minute later, we approached an intersection. Abu Absal slowed down. “This was where they were killed,” he said. “You see that brown house?” he pointed. “That’s where the soldiers shot from. I didn’t know they were there. If I had known, I could have taken another route…”

Amer had told me how close the hospital was to the scene of the killings, but seeing it for myself felt like a punch in my gut. Kassab could not have been helped, but Abu Absal and Ibrahim, even with their injuries, could have made it there, walking or crawling or both. But the soldiers had threatened to shoot them if they moved.

Ten minutes later, Abu Absal was giving me a tour of the farm, pointing out with love and devotion each fig and citrus tree, every pepper, the collection of bee hives. From the window of the elevated farm house, he asked me if I could see the fence and the military tower in the distance. I could. “That’s the border with Israel,” he told me. “I watched dozens of tanks roll into Gaza from there. I must guard the farm every day to make sure no one uses it to launch rockets. I don’t want the Israelis to have any excuse to destroy my farm.”

The destruction was not always related to rocket fire. The day before, I had filmed the remains of a school bombed by fighter jets, a clinic that had been shelled and a residential neighborhood reduced to rubble. I had also seen a mosque sprayed with bullets from a recent shootout between Hamas and an Islamic militant group. But in the midst of this destruction, I also witnessed resilience and ingenuity. I saw tent-dwellers whose homes were destroyed tap into a main power line, providing their families with electricity. I watched a youth soccer tournament and broke the Ramadan fast with families at sundown. Though people were going about their daily lives, loss and pain in Gaza still run very deep.

Abu Absal tenderly showed me his baby eggplants nestled in rich soil. He offered me a ripe pomegranate dangling temptingly off a tree. A warm light glowed in his eyes.

“Your farm is beautiful,” I said, hoping my appreciation would further boost his spirits.

A cloud passed over Abu Absal’s face. He fingered the rubbery leaves of his olive tree silently. Finally he spoke, echoing, it seemed to me, the sentiment of thousands of Gazan civilians. Those who lost loved ones, their homes, their schools. Those who saw crushed in front of their eyes whatever hope they still nurtured, whatever shards of a normal life they had managed to preserve throughout decades of occupation and years of escalating violence.

“It is very beautiful here indeed. But the beauty means nothing since my sons are gone.”

- Jen Marlowe

The views expressed by contributing bloggers do not reflect the views of Worldfocus or its partners.

U.N. investigators are now calling upon Israel and Hamas to conduct their own independent inquiries into the allegations. If not, the team is recommending the case be sent to an international war crimes tribunal. Israel has rejected that call, blasting the report as being “conceived in sin.” The Israeli government refused to cooperate with the investigation, saying the outcome was “prejudged.”

Much of the Arab press focused on the allegations against Israel, while downplaying the actions of Hamas. In Israel, the report was almost universally condemned.

Do you believe that either Israel or Hamas — or both — committed war crimes in last winter’s war in Gaza?

Tell us what you think in the comments section below.

Yossi Peled, a minister in the current Israeli government and a former general in the Israeli Army, joins Daljit Dhaliwal to discuss the Israeli government’s position on the U.N. report and the chances of Israeli military action against Iran.

The schools in question are run by the United Nations Relief and Works Agency, which also provides aid for Palestinian refugees throughout the Middle East. Andrew Whitley, the director of UNRWA’s New York office, joins Daljit Dhaliwal to discuss the organization’s position and how the Holocaust is handled in Middle Eastern schools.

Worldfocus: You’re from Gaza, but you weren’t born there?

Gaza City in 2007, the year that Hamas ascended to power.

Nizar al-Wazir: My family has lived in Gaza City for generations, but I was born in Dubai 27 years ago. My parents were unable to return to Gaza after leaving the coastal strip to study abroad in the late 1970s. After the UAE, we lived in Jordan for three years — until the Oslo Accords allowed us to return to Gaza in 1994.

I did high school in Gaza before attending Birzeit University from 1999 to 2003. But I couldn’t visit my parents 60 miles away in Gaza, due to the 2nd Intifada.

Worldfocus: Is your family involved in politics?

Nizar al-Wazir: My uncle, Khalil “Abu Jihad” al-Wazir, was a co-founder of Fatah. He was Yasser Arafat’s right hand man and the commander of Fatah’s al-Assifa military wing. He was exiled from Israel to Gaza in 1948, and then from Jordan to Lebanon to Tunisia. He was assassinated there by Israel in 1988 — at the beginning of the first Intifada.

My family has always been Fatah, but my parents stay out of politics. They still live in Gaza City, where my father is a consultant for the Fatah-controlled Ministry of Finance. My mother is a deputy assistant at the Ministry of Education.

Worldfocus: When do you think Palestine will achieve statehood?

Nizar al-Wazir: We were optimistic after Oslo, when I attended the Seeds of Peace Camp in the U.S. After the beginning of the second Intifada, F-16 bombardments were regular. Electric generators were knocked out, so we had power for five or six hours each day.

After Shalit was captured, we had sonic booms over Gaza five times per day — for over a month.

Anyway, I don’t see the Palestinian state coming any time soon. The West Bank is too divided into small cantons, and Gazans are too extreme.

Worldfocus: In 2008, the U.S. State Department cancelled seven Fulbright grants because the recipients could not get visas. After a diplomatic outcry, the grants were reinstated two days later. Could you explain the political issues at stake?

Nizar al-Wazir: With a Palestinian Authority passport, one can travel everywhere. But getting a visa is the difficult part. Israel has imposed strict movement restrictions since Hamas took over Gaza. I can’t even have friends from other countries visit me in Gaza.

The Department of State even sends different forms to Fulbrighters in Gaza and the West Bank. We are not viewed as being from the same Palestinian entity.

I was nominated for a Fulbright scholarship for the first time in 2005. But I couldn’t get a placement at an American university because I couldn’t travel to either Egypt or Jordan for the GMAT.

Of the seven Fulbrighters chosen from Gaza in 2007, only three made it to the U.S. — mostly via personal connections. But there was no media attention that year.

In 2008, seven Gazan Fulbrighters were very close to losing their scholarships, until the media alerted Condoleezza Rice and the international community.

Worldfocus: After your work in Washington D.C. is finished, will re-entry to Gaza be difficult ?

I plan on returning to Gaza at the end of this summer. Some of my friends think I should go back to the West Bank and not Gaza. But since I’m in the U.S. on a State Department grant, the U.S. Embassy in Jerusalem might organize a group re-entry for a group of us to re-enter Gaza.

Photo courtesy of Flickr user OneArmedMan under a Creative Commons license.

The report said that Hamas rockets killed three Israeli citizens and placed civilian Palestinians in danger. A spokesman for Hamas called the report biased and incorrect.

Joe Stork, deputy director of the Middle East and North Africa Division of Human Rights Watch, joins Martin Savidge to discuss the report.

(View full post to see video)

For more information, view a video by Human Rights Watch:

A Palestinian refugee stands with his belongings in Rafah Camp. Photo: Flickr user Rafahkid

Ahmed Moor was born and raised in the southern Gaza city of Rafah. Recently laid off from a finance job in New York City, he plans to work for a micro-finance initiative inside Palestinian refugee camps in Lebanon starting this fall. Though he is now an American citizen, Ahmed remembers what his life was like when his travel document was stamped “stateless.”

Worldfocus.org’s Stateless to Statehood explores a wide range of legal and political situations regarding the relationship between individuals and the states they live in. Kuwaiti Bidoon are considered de jure stateless because they lack government recognition and citizenship status. Palestinians in Gaza are stateless to the extent that they do not yet belong to a true state.

I was born in the Rafah refugee camp in Gaza, Palestine. My status as a refugee was compounded by the fact that I lacked a state identity. This was my status for the first ten years of my life.

I did not become an American citizen until 1995. My naturalization document has a picture of ten-year-old me and the word “Stateless” printed right above it. I remember my mother crying when she saw that word on her own document.

What did I know about statelessness? I am from somewhere. I have a culture and a people. I am from Palestine, and I am a Palestinian.

Palestine was supposed to be recognized as a sovereign state alongside Israel in 1948, but it never was. Palestinians from the Occupied Territories mostly do not have full citizenship rights and are now governed by a constantly shifting mix of overbearing Israel, impotent Fatah, and ascendant Hamas.

Sometimes I forget what it means to be stateless. Nowadays, I rarely think about how many times my family was refused entry a country. It has been so long since I slept inside airports because we did not have the privilege of leaving.

Yet, statelessness is more than lacking the privileges that sovereign states extend to their citizens. Being stateless means something more basic. Statelessness is sheer humiliation and the degradation of human dignity.

The stateless human being is inferior. He has failed to do what other men have done for themselves. It means that, for whatever reason, he is unable to govern himself. He is not complete enough to take control of his life and the lives of others in his community. He has failed to take his place in the United Nations - that great hall of mankind.

Men celebrate their independence days everywhere, but the stateless man is not independent. He is dependent and unwelcome. The stateless man lacks maturity and requires stewardship. He must always be grateful to others for allowing him to work and to live. He is a burden, always compelled to prostrate himself and apologize for intruding.

That’s what statelessness meant to a ten-year-old boy.

Today, I know better. Although I am no longer stateless, the real change in my status has nothing to do with my American passport. I know the history of Palestine and the injustice that bred the injustice that violates my dignity and does not permit me to govern myself in my country. My view of myself has changed but my struggle is the same. It is a struggle for control of my life and the lives of others in my community.

The failure is no longer mine. The failure rests with the people who do not recognize my citizenship and equality. My oppressor erodes his own humanity through his treatment of me. I am not insecure in the fundamental worth of my being; I know my intrinsic value.

So what does it mean to be stateless?

- Ahmed Moor

Although cities in the north and south have traditionally been at the greatest risk of missile attacks, the government is practicing these drills nationwide.

Watch the report from Worldfocus partner The Media Line.

Blogger “mimi54” describes the drill, writing that some ignored it:

It’s a very loud, urgent, scary wail. When it resounds across the country to remind us of our dead, it does sound like crying. I suppose it’s because we ourselves are weeping then. But in a real emergency, when adrenelin [sic] is pouring through the blood and our hearts are jumping, it sounds like a wavering howl. I wonder how many ignored it today and just got on with whatever they were doing, and how many complied with the Home Front’s orders. 

At the clinic, I saw signs with arrows pointing to the safe areas. Banks, supermarkets – big, organized places – and certainly schools, complied. However many individuals that I talked to today took a cynical view of the drill. My friend in the second-hand store told me that it’s just the government’s way of covering its back: “They don’t help in emergencies. They’re just doing this so they can say ‘We gave instructions and did our bit.’ ” (I don’t agree; the government does protect the population as far as possible in war.) “Anyway,” he added, “I’m not going to close shop and go to the shelter just for a drill. Who wants to look like a fool on the street?”

Watch a video of the drill as experienced by YouTube user bspier1, showing many people who were unconcerned:

A blogger at “From the hills of Jerusalem” echoes the sentiment, writing that after so many real attacks, it is hard to take simulations seriously: 

This wasn’t a crisis, of course, it was just a drill. But it was a drill that reminded us that we’ve been through many drills - real ones. The residents of Sderot, and towns along the southern borders, as well as those in the north, have already had many and constant real life exercises to practice. I have had my own runs for shelter when in some of those towns. Sometimes a safe room was available, sometimes we stood under a doorway…like in an earthquake. You do your best.

Today, no one moved. We just continued on with whatever we were doing. [...]It’s not that we are really nonchalant or lackadaisical….it’s just…well, alright already, we know the big one is coming…nuke, earthquake, bolts from heaven…. It’s Israel - our minds are already stretched as far as they can go in the survival mode. 

A blogger at “A Soldier’s Mother” explains why she warned her daughter of the drill in advance:

For some reason, perhaps to add to a feeling of urgency, the school decided not to explain to my 9-year-old daughter in advance that this would be an exercise. During the war, a siren was accidentally sounded in our city and the children were quickly moved to bomb shelters, fearing it was a real attack. There was no warning (as we have now) and therefore no chance to prepare the kids. All that mattered was a frantic but orderly move to bomb shelters in case our city, so far from Gaza, would somehow also be hit by missiles.

There was no time to find out if it was a mistake, human error. Later, they would confirm at attack on Beersheva and a mistake made. But at that moment, it was as real as if we too lived within seconds of Gaza.

I didn’t want my daughter to go through that again and so I told her, secretly, that when she heard the siren, she should listen to the teachers, but not be afraid. Every child has the right to live without fear, including that sudden panic that comes with hearing a siren and knowing you have to run quickly to seek shelter.

User “Traxus” comments on the “World Affairs Board,” addressing concerns that Israel may be preparing for war with Iran: 

Posturing and preparing… the lines are so blurred. This is definitely a posturing move though, at least in part. They are being quite vocal in preparing for war, I’m sure this is a message more aimed at the US and Europe rather than Iran.

Would Israel put so much effort into this if they had no intention of attacking Iran? Hard to say. This is also a PR move for Israeli citizens. Gets them used to the idea of being at war with Iran, makes the idea a lot more comfortable especially if these drills have a positive result.

Photo courtesy of Flickr user Nahariense under a Creative Commons license.

Mary Boys, a professor of theology at the Union Theological Seminary, discusses the pope’s relations with Jews and Muslims and how his trip is being perceived on all sides.

Read blogger reactions to the pope’s trip and his statements below.

The pope conducted mass in Manger Square, where he gave his condolences to the suffering people living in Gaza. Blogger “Lionel” describes attending the papal mass and the mood in the region:

Yesterday’s papal Mass at the Kidron valley was something [...] of a letdown. Security was super tight. There was a tension in the air. The pope had just been criticised for his yad Vashem speech and the sheikh had hijacked the conference that made the pope walk out. [..] The crowd was noticeably very small — mainly foreign pilgrims and religious nuns. Even the number of priests were very limited…it was pretty subdued.

I left for Bethlehem at 8pm after the Mass ended. Stayed overnight but got up real early to go to Manger Square in front of the Basilica of the Nativity for the 2nd papal Mass this morning.  Now here the Mass was packed packed packed!!!! And we had Catholics from Gaza and other refugee camps like Jenin, Zebibde and even Taybe and other West Bank districts closed by Israeli security. And many women wore traditional bedoiun costumes. It was like a carnival — the combined choir was leading in songs and chanting “Benedetto! benvenuto!” (Benedict! Welcome!) It was a stark contrast from yesterday’s sombre (one nun said it was like a funeral) mood. Here in Bethlehem, people were standing on chairs, singing, waving flags, interrupting the homily with shouts and claps.

After Mass the pope went to greet the Christians from Gaza — everything broke loose — a security nightmare. All the refugees rushed to plead with the pope for help and the security had to surround the pope to protect him and whisk him off quickly. Palestinian security was pretty tough as well. Snipers on every rooftop in Manger Square.

Blogger Tom Hein in Israel writes about the widespread preparation prior to the pope’s visit:

One of big events in the news of Israel is the arrival of the Pope in Jerusalem. All week long I have been seeing preparations in the old city for his arrival. For example, down in the Kidron Valley a gigantic platform stage was erected, seating set up in cordoned sections interspersed with imported olive trees and tons of gravel so that people in robes don’t have to walk on the dirty grimy floor of the Kidron Valley. Actually they’ve cleaned up everything around the city. One of our tour guides said that the city is not usually this clean, but they are giving it the spit and shine for the Pope.

Since the pope is arriving there are thousands of soldiers lining the streets around the old city, a blimp bouncing around in the sky overhead, and the roads are blocked with buses parked sideways across the width of the roadways. I guess that this is to stop someone from driving up in a car or truck with a bomb or trying to ram the popes automobile. It is a really massive operation, hard to describe how many soldiers I’ve talked to today as I’ve gone here and there. I went up high on one precipice to see the view, and I had a soldier follow and check for bombs in the flower pots! When he didn’t find any bombs he visited with me a bit which was fine. I respect and appreciate soldiers, and I just took it that he was doing his duty to keep an eye on me. People are not allowed to drive up here to the old city and there are certain roadways blocked to pedestrian traffic as well. Some people are upset because they have to take an alternative route around anywhere the pope is going. I understand why it’s necessary.

User “Max” comments on a Catholic blog about his experience as a Christian in Bethlehem:

I am a Christian Palestinian from Bethlehem […] I lived most of my life here, got baptized and confirmed here, went to Catholic schools etc. I have to say that blanket hatred of other religions does not resemble anything that I ever learned about Christianity. Muslims and Christians have been living peacefully together in Bethlehem for centuries now. Throughout my life Muslims here have been my good neighbors, classmates, friends, work colleagues and most of all fellow Palestinians with whom we have shared the experience of 42 years of a brutal Israeli military occupation of our city. All we want is to simply be free.

Like many Christian Palestinians I am also sadly making plans to emigrate from Palestine. I am doing so not because of my Muslim neighbors but because it is extremely demoralizing to live in a city that is besieged by Israeli walls and is constantly shrinking as Israel confiscates more and more of our privately owned lands to build Israeli settlements. Our beautiful city is starting to resemble a fenced in ghetto in which we have to maneuver Israeli army checkpoints on a daily bases with a regular dose of harassment and intimidation.  It would be a remarkable gesture for the pope to visit Gaza. If he does so I hope, as a Christian, that he would do this not only as an “expression of solidarity with the Christian community”, but with all Palestinians in Gaza who are still suffering from the aftermath of a barbaric attack that cannot be justified.

Also, read editorial consultant Peter Eisner’s analysis of the pope’s visit: Israel parses pope’s words at Holocaust memorial.

A van carrying aid in Gaza City.

More than 1,300 Palestinians were killed in Israel’s 22-day Gaza offensive, and around 80 percent of Palestinians are reliant on aid.

The Israeli government does allow aid shipments into Gaza, but fears that opening the borders would allow Hamas to bring weapons into the area. U.N. aid workers in the Gaza Strip have asked Israel to ease restrictions on aid.

Michael Robin Bailey of the humanitarian group Oxfam describes their aid operation and the dangers faced by aid workers:

A truckload of Pampers is driven into the Kerem Shalom crossing ahead of us. One consignment of 36 wooden pallets piled to a height of 160 cm. Not enough to meet the household needs in Gaza where 170 babies are born every day. “We have seen a lot of Pampers and toilet rolls recently,” confides the Israeli army major who is assigned to liaise with the humanitarian community. Also macaroni and spaghetti now that they have been approved at the political level of the Israeli administration.

I am here with 13 colleagues from the humanitarian community, three middle ranking Israeli soldiers and the manager of Kerem Shalom. 20 adults earnestly discussing baby nappies and the security significance of pasta. Meanwhile inside Gaza 8,000 families are waiting for the materials to rebuild the homes that were destroyed nearly three months ago.

[...]Kerem Shalom’s operations manager says his main aim is getting humanitarian aid to Palestinians in Gaza. However, he always gives priority to security, “If there is any danger for people, I will close the crossing immediately.” He describes how his operation is hemmed in. On one side, by problems getting his Palestinian workers to work on time, “Hamas is controlling everything, they hold up the workers coming from Gaza.” On the other hand he is ordered to manage up to 150 trucks a day although he says he could handle 400 or 500. “It depends on the policy.” Since June 2007, the Israeli government policy is that nothing other than humanitarian aid goes into Gaza.

Blogger Mona El-Farra, a physician living in the Gaza Strip, argues that civilians are paying the price:

It is dispropotional open war , civilians pay the price. [...]on my way walking to the Red Crescent Society , (i donot have fuel in my car ), it is only 25 mintues , while walking , i can cleary hear successive explosions, from diffrent parts of the city , and the drune on the sky , and also can clearly see the security forces soldiers, outside thier headquarters , as it is under threat of bombing by the israeli military forces ,

i had to walk very fast , expecting the worse , arriving my work to find out that we do not have enough fuel for the ambulance and the other work vehicles.

no fuel entered Gaza since 17 days , our storage has been exhausted , oh my god this situation will have its disasterous impact on different health facilities .

Medical workers as always work under great pressure , and while i am trying to arrange for medical shipment entry to Gaza , donated by MECA , i endure living in such dangerous situation , and lack of electricity , we have scarce power 6- 8 hours daily at the moment ,fresh and clean pumped water is big problem for most residents of Gaza

An Israeli blogger, “Alain,” replies to her post, placing the blame on Hamas:

Civilians pay the price, I agree (what about civilians in Sderot?), but maybe you should ask the Hamas to give answers. You can always blame Israel. As long as Hamas Fires missiles, Israel will respond and the international opinion will support it.

Maybe the people of gaza should ask the Hamas to behave like a government and not like a terrorist entity.

I know there are a lot of civilians like you that are longing for a real peace like a lot of israelis like me.

Worldfocus producer Mohammad al-Kassim interviews Dr. Sameeh Shbaib of Birzeit University in the West Bank.

On Wednesday, a second round of talks between leaders of the rival Palestinian groups Hamas and Fatah began in Egypt. The talks between the two factions are aimed at forming a national unity government that can better work for a common Palestinian cause.

The Islamist Hamas refuses to recognize Israel and has controlled the Gaza Strip since expelling Fatah forces in June 2007. After its victory in 2006 parliamentary elections, Hamas was given the responsibility to form a Palestinian government. This led to tensions and a power struggle with Fatah, a secular movement led by Palestinian President Mahmoud Abbas, the chairman of the Palestine Liberation Organization (PLO).

Fatah is largely in control of the West Bank and supports the creation of a Palestinian state in a land-for-peace deal with Israel based on the 1967 borders.

Dr. Sameeh Shbaib lectures on philosophy and cultural studies at Birzeit University in the West Bank and recently sat down with Worldfocus producer Mohammad al-Kassim to discuss the ongoing talks in Cairo.

Mohammad al-Kassim: What’s your take on the first round Palestinian national reconciliation meetings in Cairo in mid-March?

Sameeh Shbaib: As Palestinians, we are faced with two different powers — Hamas and Fatah. Hamas is a Islamic political movement that has its own ideology, which is different that the national Palestinian political movement established in 1964. The Palestinian National Covenant [the charter of the PLO] has always been the sole representative of the Palestinian people. Hamas carries its own weight and is a real player in the Palestinian political structure and that comes from the majority it enjoys in the Palestinian national legislation. However, it does not speak for the Palestinian people

That’s why we have these deep differences. Hamas has its own view from all the international alliances and national political programs. If we look at the programs of the PLO, we see that they are secular programs and are not religious or partisan. The move toward Palestinian national reconciliation comes after pressure by Arab countries. As we see, there is an environment now among the Arab countries to set aside their differences. There is a thawing of relations is happening between two moderate nations (Egypt, Jordan, Saudi Arabia) and the so-called rejectionist countries (Syria).

This new phase of Arab cooperation is reflected directly or indirectly on the Palestinian issue, which is in dire need of one unified voice. I hope that the national unity government will lift the blockade on Gaza and begin rebuilding.

MAK: Considering the deep divisions between Hamas and Fatah how strong will this government be?

SS: The positive thing about this government is that it’s going to be a transitional government with big responsibilities. The first is the lifting of the blockade and the rebuilding of Gaza. Second, making sure that legislative and presidential elections take place within 10 months or before the end of January 2010. Basically, what we’d have is a general election, which will decide the future of the Palestinian political system, and everyone would have to respect the results, despite the outcome.

MAK: If Hamas joins a national coalition government, will it be implicitly approving or agreeing to all the peace accords the PLO has signed with Israel?

SS: Not necessarily, and that’s because Hamas is a political party and the government is the executive coalition. All the accords that were signed between the Palestinians and Israel, were signed by the PLO and not by one Palestinian faction. And, Hamas is not a member of the PLO.

Hamas has a stronghold on the Gaza Strip.

MAK: If and when the national unity government is created, does this mean the return of the Palestinian Authority to Gaza?

SS: Yes, if an agreement is reached — and that’s what we hope — this transitional government will be a general unity government, which is part of an agreement that includes five major points. The security issue, election issue, the restructuring of the PLO issue and so on. As a result, this government will be able to spread its influence over the Palestinian territories, meaning Gaza and the West Bank.

MAK: What names are on the table as possible candidates for the prime minister position for the national unity government?

SS: In my opinion, it’s going to be an independent candidate that both Fatah and Hamas will agree to.

MAK: What were the motives behind the resignation the current Palestinian government led by prime minister Salam Fayyad? Was his resignation a result of the talks in Cairo or an internal fight?

SS: It doesn’t matter because this government came after the Hamas coup of June 2006. Then a state of emergency was declared because President Abbas desperately needed someone who could uphold the state of emergency and Fayyad took on this historical role. This government was created with certain goals in mind, and once they were accomplished, there was no more need for it.

MAK: What if a unity government fails? What are the implications of the failure on Palestinians?

SS: We hope and pray to God that when a Palestinian government is created, it does not fail in its mission and succeeds in rebuilding the Palestinian house, because its failure this time will be catastrophic. It will lead to a permanent division between the two territories. And the future of the Palestinian state will forever undecided and all Palestinians will lose.

Photo courtesy of Flickr user flyk3r under a Creative Commons license.

Georgia announced on Wednesday that it will pull out of the contest after refusing to choose a different song or change the lyrics of its entry, the disco-funk song “We don’t wanna put in.”

Considered a swipe at Russian Prime Minister Vladimir Putin over the five-day war between Russia and Georgia last August, the tune ran into trouble because of rules against political lyrics and was disqualified.

Watch a video of the song from YouTube user EurovisionPL:

Blogger “Anna Ershova,” a Russian student at Yale University, weighs in on Georgia’s pop protest:

I can see why the Georgians are so tongue-in-cheek regarding their behemoth neighbor, but that’s a petty way to deliver a protest, isn’t it? Georgia, if you are still mad over Abkhazia and Ossetia, go to a court of law, not the performance stage.

Russia’s own entrant to the contest has created a separate debate. Ukrainian singer Anastasia Prikhodko was selected on Tuesday to represent Russia after she had been disqualified from Ukraine’s contest.

Andy Young blogs at “Siberian Light” about her song, “Mamo,” and the uproar it is causing:

The controversy?  Well, Prikhodko is Ukrainian, and Mamo is sung partly in Russian and partly in - gasp - Ukrainian. Oh yes, and Prikhodko only entered the Russian qualification contest after she’d been kicked out of the Ukrainian qualification contest.The biggest complaints about Prikhodko’s victory came, not too surprisingly, from Yusif Prigozhin the husband of the singer who finished second. “It’s a disgrace… A song performed in Ukrainian can’t have anything to do with Russia.”

Finally, singer Mira Awad will be the first Arab to represent Israel in the song contest. She is slated to perform a duet in Arabic, Hebrew and English with Israeli Jewish singer Achinoam Nini.

The news has been criticized by Arab artists in the wake of the Gaza conflict, and the Palestinian Campaign for Academic and Cultural Boycott of Israel has called on Awad to refuse to participate in the contest:

To represent Israel in the Eurovision Song Contest will serve to polish the international image of an aggressive occupying state that has long been engaged in ethnic cleansing and crimes against humanity. It will communicate to the rest of the world that Israel’s war crimes and violations of international law are acceptable to us as Palestinians! [...] You may feel that it is important for you to represent Israel to demonstrate the full spectrum of Israeli society, which includes Palestinians living in Israel. This is utterly misguided. Until Palestinians living within Israel have full rights and do not suffer systemic discrimination and violation of their human and political rights, Israel has no right to portray itself as a healthy, multicultural society.

Amjad Atallah, the co-director of the Middle East Task Force at the New America Foundation, joins Daljit Dhaliwal to discuss the future of relations with Syria and other issues examined during Clinton’s visit.

Joshua Landis at the “Syria Comment” blog writes what the announcement may mean for the future of U.S.-Syria relations:

Clinton’s deliberate handshake with Syria’s Foreign Minister at the Gaza donor Conference promises a thaw in Syria-U.S. relations. [...]

All the same, some things seem not to be changing. The US is still seeking to “flip” Syria away from Iran, which Hillary doubts can be pursuaded to fall in with America’s regional security designs. (More promising would be an effort to engage both, rather than trying to split them). Hillary has set out strict preconditions for U.S. support for Israeli-Syrian dialogue. Syria must cut relations with its allies, Hizbullah and Hamas. The demand that Syria abandon its supporters and friends before entering into full dialogue with the US is no more likely to work under Obama than it did under Bush. Why? Because Syria fears that the US will again fail to deliver Israel, as it did under Bill Clinton in 2000. Netanyahu will decline to return the Golan, as he promised during his campaign, and Syria will be left without a deal and with with no friends or regional leverage. Syria suspects this is, in fact,  Washington’s desired outcome - to weaken Syria.

Clinton also said the movement toward the creation of a Palestinian state is, as she put it, “inescapable.” She met with Israel’s Prime Minister-designate, Benjamin “Bibi” Netanyahu, who said they found “common ground,” even though Netanyahu opposes a two-state solution.

The “Jerusalem Watchman” blog describes the fine line that Netanyahu must walk with the U.S. in terms of the two state question:

Netanyahu, who is being urged by many to withstand these pressures, is trying to walk a fine line. [...] Naturally enough, he does not want to embark on his second term in office already at loggerheads with the new most powerful man in the world. He has been there before. He knows, too, the value of the American Alliance Asset that Israel values and has long sought to protect.

Hillary Clinton meets the mayor of Jerusalem, Nir Barkat.

Times have moved on since Clinton’s husband occupied the White House. The new president is an entirely different kettle of fish. And he has a whole administration, together with a well-weighted Capitol Hill, to back his engagement in the Middle East.

As Hillary comes barreling in, Bibi is likely hoping for all the prayers he can get.

Edward Walker, a former assistant secretary of state and a former ambassador to Israel, describes his interactions with Netanyahu at the “Mideast Peace Pulse” blog:

The Prime Minister Bibi Netanyahu who I worked with while I was our Ambassador to Israel, was certainly conservative in his viewpoint, and he was tough when it came to military action.  But, at the same time, he was pragmatic when it came to the interests of Israel and to his own political interests and that of his party. [...]

With Israel’s best interests in mind, Netanyahu has to consider the impact of his policies on his relationship with the new American administration and President.  As a pragmatist, Bibi has no need to rule out negotiations with the Palestinians or a two state solution.  So long as the Palestinians are divided politically, no two state solution is possible – and that will not be Israel’s or Bibi’s fault.

Blogger Daoud Kuttab attended Clinton’s press conference in Israel and describes asking her a question about the conflict in Gaza:

The Gaza Reconstruction conference was a busy affair. Speakers gave talks governments and foundations made pledges and politicians debated all day. In the end it was left to the key players to tell the press about the results of the all day event.

While the question and answer period was over, I was called on to meet privately with the Secretary. [...] I asked her about the blockade on Gaza. My question focused on her interest in children and I asked her what is the fault of a Palestinian child to be taken hostage by politicians. Despite her earlier emotional plea for the children of Palestine, this question failed to move her and she began an often repeated routine of faulting the rockets for the Israeli attacks. Hamas actually provokes Israel to respond was the gist of what she was saying. I was unhappy with the answer but was aware that my time was out.

Photo courtesy of Flickr user U.S. Department of State under a Creative Commons license.

Turkey admits to World War I-era mass killings in Armenia but denies that it was genocide. A memorial in Yerevan, Armenia, commemorates the killings.

The word genocide was coined in the wake of the Holocaust.

Since then, the term has been used in varying contexts to describe modern conflicts, from Rwanda to Darfur. But the term itself has become a source of conflict, as many look to whether or not governments and leaders recognize and punish genocide.

The United Nations defines genocide as “acts committed with intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnical, racial or religious group” and a convention criminalizing genocide became law in 1951.

Some people have been prosecuted and found guilty of genocide, including Rwandan politician Jean-Paul Akayesu and Serbian General Radislav Krstic.

However, while the U.S. has pointed to genocide in Darfur, the United Nations has refrained from using that term to describe the killings in Sudan.

The “Killing Denouement” blog discusses the historical use of the term and modern debates surrounding its usage:

Is Gaza a genocide; is Darfur a genocide? Where do you draw the lines between ‘land conflict’, ‘ethnic cleansing’ and genocide’, and what are the political value(s) of doing so? And how does something get designated as genocide anyway - is it, legally, only when the ICC at the Hague says so?

[...]The Rwandan genocide is popularly characterised as one of the most shocking massacres of a century already stained by violent bloodshed. Much of its associated visceral horror comes from the situation of neighbours turning against each other. Not unlike its historical cousin of the Nazi Holocaust, it too was structured around several poles of binary opposition. Citizen and subject; native and settler. Hutu and Tutsi; Nazi and Jew. Both of these atrocities have seeped their way into the collective Western consciousness, and have come to function as embedded points of reference for future conflicts.

The “Presidential Blog” writes about the debate surrounding the Gaza war and its casualties:

I see how the name-calling and the evocations of other historical horrors take us all further away from understanding, further away from any hope of resolution on a human scale. Comparisons to “genocide” or “apartheid” simply raise the rhetorical stakes; they may help speakers or writers score points (in their own minds and the minds of the like-minded) but they do nothing to advance shared understanding.

On the contrary.

Mahmood Mamdani of “Pambazuka News” points to similarities between violence in Darfur and the war in Iraq, exploring how the conflicts are named differently:

The similarities between Iraq and Darfur are remarkable. The estimate of the number of civilians killed over the past three years is roughly similar. The killers are mostly paramilitaries, closely linked to the official military, which is said to be their main source of arms. The victims too are by and large identified as members of groups, rather than targeted as individuals. But the violence in the two places is named differently. In Iraq, it is said to be a cycle of insurgency and counter-insurgency; in Darfur, it is called genocide. Why the difference? Who does the naming? Who is being named? What difference does it make?

Flickr user “Bullneck” posts an image of a protester with a sign declaring genocide, and argues that the word is misused:

Here’s an idea: Why don’t we all put the term ‘genocide’ (and ‘Holocaust,’ too) on a hiatus from placards and instead use words with more meaning, rationality, and thought? The only situation which calls for the use of such terms would be something akin to Rwanda in the ’90s. Everything else is self-righteous hyperbole which cheapens the word’s meaning.

Blogger “Stacey Perlman” argues that governments use alternate terms to avoid responsibilities:

The genocide in Darfur has gone on since 2003 and has not gained the attention it deserves. Other genocides include Rwanda in 1994 and the Cambodian Killing Fields in 1975. Not to mention the death of 11 million people, 6 million of them Jews, in the Holocaust during WWII.

Perhaps lesser known is the first genocide of the 20th century. No, it wasn’t the Jews in WWII, it was the Armenians in 1915 during WWI. It is estimated that one and a half million people died between 1915 and 1923. There is still controversy surrounding the mass murder of these people as the Turkish government has continually denied it ever happened.

In Kenya, the recent election controversy was the straw that broke the camel’s back after decades of tension from grudges over land. Using a term like “ethnic cleansing” is an easy way to avoid providing aid. [...] Until the situation is deemed “genocide” no legal action needs to be taken, which is disturbing. Ethnic cleansing is not any less minor of a situation than a declared genocide and efforts should be made to combat it.

The “BlogCritics” blog writes that Western governments only deem mass killing genocidal when economic interests are involved:

After the horrors of World War II, the world said “never again” to horrific mass killings. But, due to the Cold War tensions, idealistic ideas such as this one were abandoned in favor of realist politics and fighting for self-interests. “Never again” does not mean “we will do everything to stop genocides from happening anywhere in the world.” The Western world in particular considers stopping genocides only in countries where they have economic or other interests.

That is why in 1994 the American government did not want to use the term “genocide” to describe the fastest genocide in recorded human history that took over 800,000 lives in Rwanda in only 100 days. [...] Calling the mass slaughter “genocide” would obligate the US and other governments, signatories of the Resolution 260A(III), to intervene and stop it. But the US and other Western countries did nothing because they had no interests in the small, overpopulated, and poor African country. That a whole ethnic group was being exterminated in front of the whole world was not enough.

Blogger “Erica Thurman” argues that omitting gender from the definition of genocide allows violence against women:

Discourse of human security as it relates to women appears to avoid the “G” word—genocide. This is perhaps because the International Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of Genocide (Convention) fails to identify systematic sexual based violence as an act of genocide. Various threats to human security are gender specific. Rape, forced impregnation, maternal mortality rates and sexual slavery are components of human insecurity which have to be viewed through a gendered lens to recognize “who is affected and how, and what specific forms of protection or assistance are needed by whom.” [...]

A finding of systematic rape as genocide would serve two purposes. The first would allow the violence against African women to be classified as genocide, thereby compelling the international community to act to prevent future occurrences of this heinous crime. Secondly, the finding of rape as genocide would introduce the idea of sexually specific crimes in the discourse of genocide which could subsequently compel an amendment to the Convention establishing women as a protected class against genocide.

Photo courtesy of Flickr user Rita Willaert under a Creative Commons license.

Alon Ben-Meir, an expert on Middle East politics at New York University’s School of Global Affairs, joins Martin Savidge to discuss how the Gaza conflict will impact the likely outcome of the election, the implications of the nationalist party’s recent gains and the future of U.S.-Israel relations.

While Mitchell emphasized the necessity of a cease-fire, both Israel and Hamas attacked one other with rockets and bombs. Mitchell plans to meet with Palestinian president Mahmoud Abbas but does not plan to have direct contact with members of Hamas.

For more on George Mitchell’s mission, Worldfocus speaks with Jon Alterman, director of the Middle East Program at the Center for Strategic and International Studies in Washington.

The president’s special representative, George Mitchell, arrived in the region today, even as the cease-fire was strained by new violence between Israel and Hamas.

Daniel Levy, the director of the Middle East task force at the New America Foundation, joins Martin Savidge to discuss Mitchell’s mission in Gaza, the U.S. approach to Syria and the president’s decision to do an interview with Al-Arabiya.

A water pipe is called a “narghile” in parts of the Middle East.

Photographer Asim Rafiqui is a photojournalist based in Sweden. He is currently in Gaza documenting the effects of Israel’s blockade and military operations on Gaza’s medical infrastructure, working with the Pulitzer Center on Crisis Reporting. He writes about his discussions with Palestinians while smoking a water pipe (also known as a “hookah” or “narghile”) in this war-torn region.

The Defiance Of The Nargila

The water pipe has many names.

In the balkans it is called a ‘lula’ or ‘lulava’.

In Egypt and the Persian Gulf it is often referred to as a ’shishe’.

In Iran it is called a ‘ganja’ pronounced as ‘ghelyoon’.

In India and Pakistan it is called a ‘huqqa’.

In Jordan, Greece, Turkey, Azerbaijan, Armenia and Israel, it is called by the beautiful name of ‘narghile’ — a word that has its roots in sanskrit.

But I doubt if it has ever been called a weapon of defiance.

In 2003 I decided to rent an apartment in the city of Rafah, Gaza and document lives of the people living along the border with Egypt.

These mostly refugee neighborhoods were under assault from Israeli armored bulldozers and tanks – all part of the construction machinery being used to build the steel wall along the Philadephia Corridor – the code name the IDF used to describe the stretch of land it controlled between Rafah, Gaza and the Egyptian border.

Today it is the stretch of land that is being used by the Palestinians for the construction of tunnels, and the area the Israeli Air Force concentrated on as it attempted to destroy these tunnels.

One afternoon as I walked around these neighborhoods photographing displaced families, destroyed homes and the bulldozers working the area, I ran into a group of Palestinian men preparing to sit and smoke a narghile. They had spread out, in sight of a group of Israeli tanks protecting a bulldozer demolishing yet another Palestinian home in the area, a small blanket on the edge of the construction area, but within the 100 meter ‘no go’ zone the Israeli’s insisted on enforcing between the steel wall and any Palestinian building or person.

The men invited me to join them.

I hesitated, knowing full well that within minutes the tanks would approach this group of men and either threaten them or simply shoot at them. And sure enough, before we had managed to take our first few puffs of the narghile we saw the tanks starting to move towards us to investigate. We were soon forced to pack and leave.

When I asked the men why they had chosen to smoke there where they were sure to provoke the Israelis they laughed. To me it had seemed a careless act of bravado. I suspect that it was also a small act of defiance – to be where the Israelis had warned them not to be.

Last night in Gaza City, I went out for a narghile with some young Palestinians I have come to know while working here documenting the aftermath of Israel’s Operation Cast Lead.

We sat and talked about ordinary things. The Palestinians always ask me the most ordinary questions; how do you spend your time with your wife? What do you do when you are not working? How do you play with your daughter? What games do you enjoy?

In turn, they tell me about their most important aspirations, and I am always struck by the ordinariness of them; The desire to find a good wife. The hope of finding a job that will bring them financial security. The hope of children, many children.

Ordinary things that over a narghile become the thing of dreams. And the water-pipe, a small act of defiance in the face of the incarceration and deprivation of life in Gaza.

An object that enables pleasures still available to the people here; companionship, conversation and the laughter of friends.

And in the aftermath of the horrors of this last confrontation with Israel, a small act of living life, a small act of defiance.

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Photo courtesy of Flickr user Johny under a Creative Commons license.