Recently the occupied West Bank has been in the news again. Ex- tensive destruction by the Israeli army in towns and refugee camps has rightly hit the headlines. What follows here doesn’t get the same coverage in the media, and the enforced closure of the Al Jazeera Office means that people will have even less access to information about on-going injustices that are newsworthy in a less dramatic way. This is a snapshot of Palestinian resistance amid relentless corrosive events taking place over many decades.
Last summer my husband and I spent three weeks as volunteers on a family farm in the West Bank, called the Tent of Nations. ToN is one of the few remaining hilltop farms in Palestinian hands. The, Christian, Nassar family bought the land more than 100 years ago and have all the papers required to prove this. Successive generations have been cultivating the land ever since. Currently the family members most actively involved are Daoud, the steady hand who holds it all together, his older brother Daher with his relentless cheerfulness, and their sister Amal with her boundless energy and generosity. Daoud has an endless array of skills, from the interpersonal and the practical to the ability to mobilise support from all corners of the world. More in the background are Jihan, Daoud’s wife, and Miladeh, the mater familias. They joined us intermittently and cooked some wicked meals for us and for solidarity groups who visited the farm as part of their fact-finding missions in the West Bank. Abu Anas was there for specific jobs, hardworking, thin, his face revealing worries about his son, who was arrested and detained without charge under military rule. And in the background was another very important person: the family’s lawyer.
This is a snapshot of Palestinian resistance amid relentless corrosive events taking place over many decades.
The different protagonists have a variety of skills, all complementing each other.
Early on in its existence the 100acre farm was thriving, for instance profitably exporting wine to Europe.
All this changed in the years following on from 1967, when Israel occupied the West Bank. Currently, the farm’s very existence is at stake. Being there allowed us to experience the contrast between the atmosphere on the farm and the threatening context within which it exists. On the one hand there is a search for life and growth, for development and cooperation. On the other hand there is the imposition of suffocating restrictions. This is already apparent on the way to the farm from Bethlehem. We need to take a poorly surfaced, hilly road that takes 45 minutes because we are not allowed to use the new road that is only accessible to Israeli settlers. There is even an informal roadblock right next to the farm to ensure that access via that route is impossible. Once arrived, via the circuitous route, our eye was caught by the five settlements surrounding the farm, with one lone Palestinian village in their midst. The settlements are like a constricting hand, apparently innocent but representing an encroaching threat. They consist of modern buildings, with comfortable access roads that are amply lit at night. Some evenings one can hear their parties as if they are happening next door.
The most constricting feature is the primitive infrastructure imposed by the military authority. The farm has no access to running water, in contrast to the surrounding settlements, that have enough for swimming pools. 80% of West Bank water goes to 700,000 settlers, 20% to three million Palestinians. Neither is there a connection to the electricity grid. These restrictions have, intentionally, a major impact on the running of the farm and the work of the volunteers. Water needs to be collected in caves in winter and used sparingly in summer til the next rainfall. As volunteers we could only have a brief shower twice a week. Washing up, using the ‘three bowl system’, is an art in itself. But most importantly of all, the watering of young trees and vines becomes a major, time-consuming task. Just imagine a group of volunteers dragging yellow jerrycans around the fields to pour enough water on the roots for their survival. Yet this is Palestinian land, the water is a Palestinian resource, as confirmed recently by the International Court of Justice.
By way of electricity, there are so-lar panels. A resourceful solution, you might say. And settlers would agree, making the panels a target for destruction. A group of very hard-working young Italian volunteers spent days building a fence around them. Paranoid? No! Not if you know that recent years have been punctuated by incursions on the land, resulting in theft and destruction of trees, vines and infrastructure, for instance the destruction of 75 apple trees in April of 2024. Not if you know that recently chickens and a donkey were stolen, and security cameras destroyed in the process. Moreover, on one occasion two of the Nassar brothers were injured in a knife attack requiring hospital treatment and on another occasion Daoud and a volunteer were threatened with a gun. Not coincidentally, the enforced responses to the persistent challenges take up a monumental amount of energy and resources, at the expense of growth of produce and creative development of the farm.A tour around the grounds highlights further challenges From the hilltop we can see a large stretch of the land, down into the steep valley towards the farm’s boundary. A fellow volunteer, who has been there for a few weeks, points out a road that leads to a half-built structure, both illegally constructed on the Nassar’s land by settlers. Further along, a caravan is parked on a road illegally built on the neighbour’s land, right next to the perimeter fence of the ToN. Vehicles positioned like that often convey the intention to build a settlement.
The farm, one of the last hilltop farms remaining in Palestinian hands, represents a microcosm of the Palestinian struggle for existence. Amongst the family there is a pervasive awareness that a lot is at stake, not just for the family but also for the surrounding land owners and Palestine more generally. This is not about one family. This is a piece of Palestine. This is a bastion for justice.
I could describe more destruction and more threat. But this should not be a tale of woe. As well as an account of setbacks, this is a celebration of the achievements of the family and the volunteers.
The family feels motivated by their great sense of responsibility, but it is their tremendous resilience, resourcefulness and patience that keeps them going. And a good dose of passion. Daher once pointed out in his heartfelt way that the farm represents his family, his history, his very soul. In the past they were offered “a blank cheque” for the land, but could not bear to accept it.
This is a triumph of determinedly peaceful attitudes. The latter become immediately clear to people entering the farm where they are greeted by a sign, saying “we refuse to be enemies”, in German and in English. This adage is ever present in the family’s day to day attitude. A fellow volunteer recounts being gently scolded by Daoud when making a vengeful comment about the settlers. “Yes, there is provocation, but we must not respond with hate or violence”, he was told. They do acknowledge that they feel angry at times, but that they try to channel this into positive action, such as planting a tree. Moreover, the family refuse to be victims. When trees get uprooted, they plant new ones. When security cameras are destroyed, they install new ones, on a higher pole. And most of all, they won’t give up.
“there is provocation, but we must not respond with hate or violence”
They are the personification of the Palestinian concept of sumud, sometimes translated as ‘steadfastness’, meaning a determination to stay on and fight for their land as a collective value.
I don’t know if they might in moments of great hardship wish they had chosen a different path. But now, as Daoud pointedly commented: “The train of giving up has left the station.”
They know they need to maintain a long-term view. We are watering olive trees that won’t bear fruit for another ten years, in the full knowledge that after all the nurturing they may be destroyed. How tempting it would be to sink into a state of victimhood, or else to seek refuge in a manic flight! But no, appraisals are rational and planning happens accordingly. Whatever the assessment, it involves a willingness to keep rowing against the tide.
When a direct response to threats is not possible, the fight needs to take place in court. For 33 years the family have fought to have their ownership re-registered by the Israeli military authorities. This should have been straightforward, but consistently the military court have put a barrage of Kafka-esque obstacles in the way. Since it is a military court, cases take place behind closed doors, hidden from scrutiny. So far there have been 14 court cases, 6 of which were cancelled at short notice by the authorities. In the case of last minute cancellations the family, and sometimes witnesses, will have undertaken the treacherous journey from Bethlehem to a settlement near Ramallah in vain. Other obstacles imposed testify to the ingenuity on the part of the authorities in their quest ultimately to dispossess the family of their desirable piece of land. A few months ago, after 33 years, the court decided that they need to compare their map with that of the family. This apparently takes 45 days. The next hearing was cancelled.
These are not the only legal challenges. There is another on-going case which was started by the family to contest the illegal roads and structure being erected by settlers on their land. The family have also gone to court to try and overturn the 28 demolition orders on buildings and structures that the family built on their land. Admittedly, they had built in spite of the fact that their requests for building permits had been turned down. The farm is located in area C, which is completely controlled by Israel. Here, the chances of Palestinians having an application approved are infinitesimally small, in stark contrast with the settlements.
The Nassars are having to take this on and we witnessed first hand the anarchic and lawless settlers and military machinery they are up against. The odds are always stacked against the family. And what you feel behind this is an amazing sense of entitlement amongst the illegal Jewish settlers that can’t be shifted, and goes unopposed, because of the support from powerful western governments.
The state is not there to protect and support Palestinians. Experiences have made clear that the police will not support them against criminal or unjust acts and that the fire brigade will take an hour to reach you from Bethlehem (because of road closures) and is then not allowed to use water (because the farm is in area C).In the midst of these on-going challenges we hear mighty, noisy war planes flying over on the way to Gaza and Lebanon and you know what they are going to do. Then you hear the thud of an explosion in the distance and your mind’s eye sees the unfathomable death and destruction inflicted. You hear it. You know it. And you can do nothing about it.
Add to this the Covid pandemic that resulted in a lasting reduction in the number of volunteers at the farm. These numbers have been further affected by Israel’s war in Gaza and consequent safety considerations for potential volunteers. On top of this are the consequences of climate change, which for instance last spring resulted in a weather pattern that destroyed the almond harvest and which more generally means that summers are longer and hotter, increasing the need to water trees.
Although it sometimes felt like we were alone in a hostile world, this is clearly not true. There is support from various corners. In the three weeks we were there, we were visited by the Dutch ambassador and the UK consul, representing two countries that have declared their near-unconditional support for Israel, and it was clear that the representatives know what is going on. There were journalists from Italy and Germany. Twice we were visited by an interfaith group of Americans, who came to express their solidarity and to inform themselves about the situation.
So how was it for us? We were part of a group of up to 11 volunteers with different backgrounds and motivations and from different countries, staying for varying amounts of time. Many were practising Christians. Together we had a unified sense of working towards a massively worthwhile goal that was invigorating for us all.
Our importance was threefold. Foremost we were there as a protective presence. It was thought that as foreign witnesses to any unjust acts by settlers or army we would have a deterrent effect. Indeed, while we were there, there were no major incidents, only a few incursions onto the land. However, we heard of an American citizen elsewhere in the West Bank being shot in the leg and, later, of a Turkish American woman being fatally shot in the head, highlighting the increasing impunity of Israeli settlers and army.
Our second task was contributing to the farm work, such as pruning trees, weeding, picking figs and feeding the animals.
And finally, we provided confirmation for the family that their efforts matter to people from all over the world. Our supportive, encouraging presence conveyed that they are important. The farm is important. Justice is important.
The family were keenly aware that the relationship had to be one of mutuality, the idea that we – volunteers and family – are there for each other. This is testified by the generosity they manage to maintain in spite of their own corrosive experience.
They gave us so much, starting with providing lovely, nutritious food. One small food-related gesture felt particularly joyful. One morning we received a WhatsApp message from Daoud: “I am on my way and will be there in about 15 minutes. The first thing we want to do is eat ice cream. Be ready.” And indeed the family arrived with a big tub of chocolate and vanilla-flavoured ice cream:
Amal beaming as she served it up. It was such a lovely example of caring thoughtfulness in the midst of the stream of challenges they face.
But of course we gained so much more, quite apart from learning how to stop a horde of hungry ducks escaping! We experienced first hand an admirable way of being. We all felt in awe of the family’s sumud in the face of the shattering experiences I have described. It is inspiring that the spirit of non-violent resistance is alive in such trying circumstances. I will always feel a warm gratitude for experiencing this from close by.
I marvel at how much the family manage to contain without retaliating, how much anxiety they can bear without becoming paranoid. What is it like when you know that so many of the problems are there because others have deliberately arranged for them to be there? It would be so easy to slide into a paranoid state or else either into a state of manic omnipotence or of learnt helplessness. Daoud in particular carried so much on his shoulders, since he was the one who had taken on the leadership role and who mediated the contact with the outside world. Often we could see the tension he was experiencing but he dealt with this internally, without burdening us.
Sometimes they wonder why God is letting so much injustice happen
What does it take to be this determined? What resources do they draw on?
First of all, there is so much at stake. Failing would mean the heart-breaking experience of losing their cherished land. Not just losing it but losing it to those who have inflicted their ordeal. It would feel as if all their struggles, all their sacrifices, had been in vain. It would mean that they have let down those who depend on them for a fair outcome. It would mean letting cruel injustice prevail.
Furthermore, there is all the support and encouragement coming from the local community, the volunteers and further afield, be it practical, emotional or political.
The family’s Lutheran faith provides an important source of strength and love. Jesus said to meet evil with good, darkness with light and hatred with love. The family are determinedly putting these maxims into practice. They have faith that ultimately justice will prevail for those who believe in God. But they don’t sit and pray passively and don’t wait for God to solve their problems. In fact, their faith offers them a greater sense of purpose and agency.
Sometimes they wonder why God is letting so much injustice happen, not just in Palestine, but all over the world. Or they ask themselves why God is abandoning them: they who don’t hate, who seek justice. But no, things happen for a reason. Destruction might turn into something good and Daoud believes that his situation and his response to it help him to empower others. In this, the support from international interfaith groups is invaluable.
But their situation requires further resources, as a family and as individuals. The family unity helps in making joint assessments of what they encounter and of their chosen response. They are clear about the importance of adhering to shared goals and ultimately the goal of preserving the farm. They carry their burdens together, not just for themselves, but also for others.
Daher once said: ‘One day you get honey, another onions’, indicating that he was prepared to accept the onions forced upon him and to respond accordingly. Even though he, along with other Palestinians, has little control over the treatment he receives at the hands of the occupiers, he/they do have the autonomy to choose their response.
Honey is there too: Being amongst the trees in the open air, being part of a team, keeping the old tractor going, seeing the results of your efforts and much much more.
It was consistently clear that it is very important for the family to uphold their deeply-held values, first and foremost their steady belief in peaceful means. They are explicit that they are not going to hate, that they are not going to be provoked into violence and that they are not going to give up. Their refusal to respond to provocation also means that they don’t provide any justification for an escalation of violence. On the contrary, they are the personification of compassion in the face of aggression. They can take pride in their stance. This does not make them passive, since it is helpfully mixed with a dose of obstinate realism. Given the chronic hostility the family are up against, it seems inevitable that there are difficult emotions. Sadness, worry and anger were shared with the volunteers, but I don’t know how much unconscious – justified – hate there might be.
It is very important for the family to uphold their deeply-held values, first and foremost their steady belief in peaceful means.
Israelis can only pursue their campaign against Palestinians by dehumanising them, by perceiving them as so low and unworthy, or so aggressive, that they deserve to be dispossessed of their land. Not only is it abundantly clear that this not justified, it is also imperative to refute these projections in order to remain in charge of their own minds, and to maintain their equilibrium, dignity and resilience.
And finally, to complete their extraordinary set of attributes and skills, the family have the ability to mobilise international support, without which they might well have lost all they have worked for.
Amidst all this, it feels indulgent to talk about my own feelings. However, one experience I want to highlight is the tension that is ever-present underneath the day to day experiences. There is a constant anxiety about what might be thrown at you in the next week, day or hour, with the added knowledge that there is no just authority ready to protect (quite the contrary). I have been somewhat shocked by the degree of my disquiet. Compared to the Nassars I had so little to lose and moreover I was only there for 3 weeks; for the family the experience is likely to last a lifetime.
On the way back to the airport the omnipresent Israeli flags proclaiming Israel’s right to the exclusive ownership of Palestine grated even more than usual and the self-congratulatory posters in the airport only added to that feeling. In the face of that entitled display of power, sorry Daoud, I felt rage.
I will not allow my feelings to turn into violence but I do call on everybody to support the Tent of Nations, and all the Palestinians it represents. Please consider volunteering and/or offering financial assistance. Inform others, and exert political pressure where possible. As Omar Barghouti described in the Guardian of 20 September 2024, Palestinians’ belief is not a “naive belief in some inevitable victory parachuting from the sky but in our people’s incessant sumud […].” The Nassars have shown plenty of sumud, and much more, but they can only achieve their goal with the help of foreign pressure.
Christine van Duuren is a longstanding supporter of justice for Palestinians. In 1981/82 she worked as a general practitioner in a Palestinian refugee camp. In subsequent years she retrained as a psychoanalytic psychotherapist and she worked until recently in the NHS and in private practice. She is a member of the Steering Group of the UK Palestine Mental Health Network.
While Christine is not connected with any particular religion, she has always tried to lead a caring and just life. She greatly values the fundamental ethical principles of religions as well as of non-religious philosophies like Humanism.
Tent of Nations website: www.tentofnations.com
Friends of Tent of Nations UK: https://www.facebook.com/fotonuk/