The
suicide bomber at the Geha Junction, Shehad Hanani, was from Beit Furik,
one of the most imprisoned villages in the territories that is
surrounded by earth roadblocks on all sides. It's a place where women in
labor and the sick have to risk walking through fields to get to the
hospital in adjacent Nablus. At least one woman in labor, Rula Ashatiya,
gave birth at the Beit Furik checkpoint and lost her infant. Few
Israelis are capable of imagining what life is like in Beit Furik: the
almost universal unemployment, poverty, endless siege and humiliations
of life inside a prison. A young man like Hanani, who was 21, had no
reason to get up in the morning other than to face another day of
joblessness and humiliation.
However, Israelis have little interest in knowing the lay of the land
from which terror springs. The Israeli media have next to nothing to say
about life in Beit Furik. By the same token, few Israelis heard about
the killing of the suicide bomber's relative, Fadi Hanani, 10 days ago
in Nablus, just as they hadn't heard about all the killings of
Palestinians in the past few months. Life in Beit Furik and the killing
in Nablus do not justify a suicide bombing at a bus station, but whoever
wants to fight terror must first and foremost improve life in Beit
Furik.
Israel counted "81 days of quiet" without terrorist attacks. But there
is no greater lie than this. The quiet was only here. During this
"quiet," dozens of Palestinians were killed, and almost no one bothered
to report it. That is how it becomes possible to speak of quiet and then
claim that the Palestinians disturbed it. The fact that the media does
not speak of Palestinian deaths does not mean that they did not happen.
The eight Palestinians who were killed last week in one day at Rafah,
for example, killing along the lines of a medium-sized terror attack,
together with destruction that is to an extent unknown in Israel,
weren't enough to generate any interest here last week. They barely got
a mention. The international community dealt prominently with this
frightening killing, and the United Nations secretary-general issued a
special statement condemning them. There was only one place where the
entire event was ignored - the country whose soldiers perpetrated the
killing. The images of giant bulldozers and tanks demolishing more and
more houses, and the scenes of the dead and 42 wounded, among them women
and children, being taken to hospitals in Rafah were hardly shown in
Israel.
The
mass-circulation daily Yedioth Ahronoth, for example, mentioned the
killing in Rafah in a sub-headline to a very small item on an inside
page that dealt with the minor injuries sustained by a settler couple in
the Gaza Strip settlement of Nisanit as a result of a Qassam rocket.
This is how the national agenda is determined. Such disgraceful coverage
of such a lethal operation by the IDF might evoke other regimes, in
which the public is shown only what the authorities want it to see.
This
has nothing to do with media critique; it's about our image. A society
that disregards loss of human life, caused by its own soldiers, is a
tainted society. A society that conceals from its citizens vital
information of this kind is undercutting their sense of judgment. The
situation is further compounded when one examines the attitude of the
Israeli society toward its victims: there aren't many societies that
immerse themselves in bereavement so intensely. What we have, then, is a
dual morality: we count only our own dead, all the rest don't exist.
Concealing information has another ramification: if we don't know, there
is no one to ask why. The eight Palestinians were killed in Rafah during
the destruction of the tunnels without the question being asked as to
whether this mission was justified at any means, at any price.
This
is a deliberate aim. It permits presenting the Palestinians as the only
guilty party, and it falls on fertile ground. The majority of the public
doesn't want to know what the IDF is really doing in the occupied
territories. But the media, therefore, are in serious breach of their
duty. Both those who support the occupation and those who are against it
are entitled to get complete information about the price it exacts. The
presentation of killing as such a marginal matter also sends a dangerous
message to Israeli soldiers: there is nothing terrible about killing
more and more Palestinians
On
Thursday, 15 passersby were wounded in the targeted killing of Islamic
Jihad activist Makled Hamid in Gaza. Last week, three children, one of
them five years old, were killed in
Balata
refugee camp, near Nablus. The week before, three children were killed
on one Saturday in Jenin and in nearby Burkin. Two Palestinians were
killed recently along the fence in Gaza, trying to enter Israel to find
work. Six Palestinians were killed in Rafah in the previous tunnel
operation in the middle of the month. Increasing numbers of children
were shot to death near the Qalandiyah refugee camp. All of these cases
rated barely a mention in the media. But behind each Palestinian victim
is family and friends, and hatred springs up from their graves.
Ibrahim Abd el Kadr, from Qalandiyah, who a few months ago lost his
eldest son, Fares, when the fourteen-and-a-half-year-old was shot in the
head by soldiers, swore to take revenge. Is it so difficult to
understand him?
There is, therefore, an Israeli price to the many concealed Palestinian
dead. They are incentives to terrorism. Their exclusion from our agenda
cannot make the results of their killing disappear as well. Would Hanani
have carried out his killing operation at Geha Junction if he had grown
up in humane conditions and if his relative had not been assassinated?
That question should be very disturbing to us. In the meantime, though,
it's not even on the agenda.
ZNet | Activism from www.haaretz.com