Why the Israeli authorities don’t like the word “Israel”
- by admin
A couple of years ago, I was walking through the neighborhood of Beit Hanina when I saw a couple of young couples in their 20s.
The first of them, a young Israeli, asked, “How are you feeling?”
The other, a Palestinian, replied, “Oh, I’m fine.”
They looked up at me with genuine smiles.
I told them I was going to do something about it.
I knew there were some people who felt the same way.
But I didn’t expect that they would be so supportive of the Israeli occupation of Palestine.
As a journalist, I had always thought of myself as a person of conscience.
When I began writing about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, I found myself drawn to people who spoke about the struggle from a completely different perspective.
They told me that the occupation of the West Bank, Gaza Strip, East Jerusalem and other areas was wrong and that Israel should never be called a “Jewish state.”
At the same time, they shared the same conviction that the people of the Holy Land should never have to be punished for their freedom.
They were right, and they were brave.
I started to think about how I could use this to my advantage.
I decided to call myself a “reconciler.”
I didn, in fact, take this stance.
The fact that I took it was a matter of convenience.
After all, if I didn’st, then the Israeli government wouldn’t be able to call itself a “Christian state.”
After all the years I spent living in the West, I knew it was time for me to return to my homeland.
The Israeli government had made the decision to expel me from the country.
I would have to live in the country where my family had lived for the past 40 years, a country that had become synonymous with death and destruction.
In the midst of this upheaval, I didn’T feel safe.
For some time, I would be alone.
I was a victim of the state.
My husband had been killed in the line of duty.
My children were kidnapped by Israeli soldiers.
The people of Beidaiya were being attacked by the Israeli army.
My father-in-law was killed by an Israeli sniper.
My brother and sister-in‑law were shot to death.
The government and the Israeli military were committing genocide against the Palestinians.
I had no one to turn to for support.
So, in December 2015, I decided I was ready to start a new life.
I went to Israel and registered as a Palestinian refugee.
But, in the process, I became the target of an Israeli campaign of discrimination, harassment and harassment.
I have had to find a new way of life, a new identity, a way of living.
In Beidaa, the town where I live, I work as a receptionist and volunteer at a soup kitchen.
I’m a bit of a street-corner guy, but I’m also a regular in the neighborhood.
I tell people who come to my house that I’m Palestinian because they can tell that I feel the same.
I live in an area where there are hundreds of Palestinians and their children, and I try to make a difference.
I don’t consider myself a refugee or a terrorist.
But what really gets to me is that this is happening here in Israel.
There are a lot of things I don’ t understand.
When the Israeli troops entered Beidah in September 2014, the area was packed with people.
People gathered around the television, looking at the news.
I felt very different.
The next day, I went into a small shop that was selling food and asked for help.
A Palestinian man from Beida approached me and said that the Israeli soldiers had come to search for the missing man.
I asked him how I should react, but he just told me to be quiet and keep quiet.
I didn t know what to say.
When we arrived at the local police station, the officers told us that the missing Palestinian had been detained and was being held in a special facility in Beidag, in Beit Ahavot, and that we needed to leave.
The Israelis were asking for our names and our ages, asking about our political affiliations.
After a few days, I asked for a lawyer, but the Israeli officials refused.
They said that if we came back to the village and asked the Israelis to arrest the man, we would be arrested ourselves.
So I went back to Beid A’amim, where I had lived since I was 16.
I couldn’t imagine what the Israeli police would do.
I still remember how I felt when I woke up the next morning and heard the news: the Israeli forces had detained me and my husband.
I immediately started calling all my friends in Beida and asking them to come and support me.
The day after, I received an e-mail from a friend of mine in Beisheh, a village in the
A couple of years ago, I was walking through the neighborhood of Beit Hanina when I saw a couple of…
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