Washington Report on Middle East Affairs, January/February 2002, page 88

Waging Peace

Mazen Dana Wins International Press Freedom Award

The Committee to Protect Journalists (CPJ) and the National Press Club’s Freedom of Press Committee hosted a press conference Nov. 14 at the National Press Club in Washington, DC to introduce three of the four winners of CPJ’s 2001 awards.

The recipients of the 11th Annual International Press Freedom Awards for courage and independence in reporting the news were: Mazen Dana, a cameraman for Reuters in the West Bank city of Hebron who has been beaten and shot on several occasions while covering clashes between Palestinians and Jewish settlers; Geoff Nyarota, editor of Zimbabwe’s only independent daily newspaper, who has been a relentless critic of President Robert Mugabe and who has been threatened and jailed, and his paper bombed twice; Horacio Verbitsky, who has exposed government corruption in Argentina, reporting on past atrocities and battling for the repeal of the country’s restrictive press laws; and Jiang Weiping, a journalist now in jail on charges of “revealing state secrets” after reporting on the taboo subject of official graft in China’s industrial northeast region.

In his speech at the Nov. 20 awards ceremony at New York’s Waldorf-Astoria Hotel, Mazen Dana said he was proud to accept this prestigious award from the Committee to Protect Journalists, which works to safeguard press freedom around the world. “It is the result of 14 years of continuous sweat and toil,” he said. “It gives me strength to know that our colleagues around the world are supporting us in the quest for truth against those who seek to stifle it.

“Working in the divided city of Hebron,” he said, “attacks on press freedom take place daily at the hands of the Israeli army and the settlers, who live in the center of town.

“To be a journalist and cameraman in a city of lost hope like Hebron requires great sacrifices,” Dana told the audience. “Gunfire, humiliation, beatings, prison, rocks, and the destruction of journalists’ equipment are just some of the hardships. And there is also the inability to move freely.

“The sad thing is that I can travel anywhere in the world,” he observed, “but I am unable to travel to the Reuters bureau in Jerusalem, which is just 25 kilometers away from Hebron.

“Being here,” he noted, “I leave behind my colleagues of whom I am very proud and who are no less courageous and deserving of this award, especially my close Reuters colleague Nael Shyioukhi, who has worked by my side for 8 years.

“Words and images are a public trust,” said Dana, “and for this reason I will continue with my work regardless of the hardships and even if it costs me my life.

“Yesterday, a tragedy befell four of our colleagues in Afghanistan,” he concluded. “This tragedy illustrates just how costly uncovering the truth can be. The bitterness of this event is only alleviated by the knowledge that journalists around the world continue to strive for the truth. And your support for us on the front lines gives us hope.”

For more information on Mazen Dana and CPJ’s 2001 International Press Freedom Award recipients visit CPJ’s Web site at <www.cpj.org>.

—Delinda C. Hanley

Ritter, Peck Discuss Anti-Iraq Campaign

To a standing-room-only audience at the Center for Policy Analysis on Palestine on Dec. 7, Scott Ritter, former U.N. chief weapons inspector in Iraq, and retired Ambassador Edward Peck, former chief of mission at the U.S. Embassy in Baghdad, discussed the campaign to expand the U.S. war against terrorism to Iraq (see articles pp. 8-9).

Ritter began by enumerating, then demolishing, the various scenarios seeking to link Saddam Hussain with Osama bin Laden’s al-Qaeda network. The meeting in Prague between an Iraqi agent and 9/11 terrorist Muhammad Atta, he said, to discuss the bombing of the Radio Free Europe tower in the Czech capital was not part of the attack aimed at America. The fact that the broadcast tower is used by the opposition Iraqi National Congress, Ritter said, made it “a legitimate military target” for Saddam Hussain, and did not represent Iraqi participation in the Sept. 11 attacks.

That scenario having been discredited, Ritter continued, the anti-Iraq cabal next brought forth “a parade of defectors” who described their experiences in al-Qaeda training camps. “I’ve dealt with defectors from Iraq for 10 years,” Ritter said, and scoffed at the idea of defectors who would give their names and provide “intelligence” information.

Next those seeking to “finish the job” against Saddam Hussain enlisted the media in their propaganda campaign. Ritter recalled the early days of the anthrax scare, when only “three nations—the U.S., Russia and Iraq”—were deemed capable of producing the weapons-grade anthrax contained in letters to Congress and the media. “But the weapons inspectors destroyed Iraq’s biological program under stringent inspections,” Ritter reminded the audience.

The former weapons inspector was most scathing in discussing President George W. Bush’s threat that “Iraq will pay a price” if weapons inspectors are not readmitted. After noting that “the Turkish economy tanked the next day,” Ritter argued forcefully that it would be “ridiculous” for Iraq to readmit inspectors, given Baghdad’s previous experience with having its classified information provided to Israel and other hostile governments. Nor did Iraq “expel” the inspectors, as is so often alleged. Rather, chief inspector Richard Butler withdrew the teams on the eve of the U.S. bombing campaign ordered by former President Bill Clinton. (Ambassador Peck later noted that aid workers in Iraq had not been warned in advance.)

Despite their flimsy evidence against Iraq, chief proponent Richard Perle refused to admit defeat, Ritter said, citing Perle’s contention that “we don’t need proof anymore” to know that Saddam Hussain “is a threat to our very being.”

What threat does Iraq pose to the U.S. today? asked Ritter. Perhaps in 1991, when its weapons program was intact, Saddam Hussain posed a threat to the region. Ritter recalled that in 1994, when he went to Israel to coordinate the weapons inspections, Israel listed Iraq as its number one threat. In 1998, however, because of the success of the inspections program, Iraq had fallen to number six on Israel’s list. Finally, Ritter said, an Israeli delegation visiting Washington two weeks earlier told the U.S. to drop Iraq as a threat, because Iran now posed the greatest danger.

Ambassador Peck, formerly deputy director of the White House cabinet office on terrorism, began by warning the audience that his natural tendency to use humor should not be interpreted to mean he did not care deeply about the issues he was about to discuss.

He recalled talking at an anti-sanctions protest to a Quaker for whom this was the seventh such demonstration—none of which had received any media coverage. “We have to do something to get their attention!” she cried in frustration. Noting that probably the most his Quaker interlocuter would do was “use an active verb,” Peck explained that people who are not being heard resort to terrorism as a last resort. “American people are loved around the world,” he said, “but American policies are not. You can’t attack a policy, however.”

The former ambassador emphasized the importance of knowing what the rest of the world thinks. Unfortunately, he said, the American media, concerned primarily with profits and ratings, “are incapable of telling the American people anything they don’t want to hear.”

But it is imperative, he continued, to “make an effort to understand why people hate you. They’re trying to tell you something.”

Understanding other perspectives, he said, does not necessarily mean something has to be done. It is the knowledge itself which is critical.

Turning to the campaign against Iraq, Peck argued that it is not America’s responsibility to depose another government, especially with no proof of any connection to the Sept. 11 attacks. “A lot of people will resent it very strongly,” he warned, especially if other options were not considered.

Peck dismissed the Iraqi National Congress—which, he suggested, was hoping to launch a “Bay of Goats” attack against Iraq—as a viable option.

No one has a clue, he said, what would happen if the U.S. gets rid of Saddam—”but it will not be good. No one benefits if Iraq implodes.”

If the U.S. can pressure Yasser Arafat and Ariel Sharon to talk, Peck said, perhaps it might try talking with Saddam Hussain. Washington “might even get some of what it wants,” the ambassador concluded.

—Janet McMahon

Rally Marks Sixth Anniversary of Yitzhak Rabin’s Assassination

After more than a year of escalating violence, many Israeli peace activists felt too dispirited to attend a Nov. 3 “non-political rally” at Rabin Square in Tel-Aviv. An estimated 80,000 people from the Israeli peace camp did attend the rally to mourn Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin, who was murdered in the square six years ago. His daughter, Daliah Rabin, who is the deputy defense minister in the Sharon government, gave a keynote speech. Many in the audience noted the bitter irony that Rabin’s daughter shares responsibility for sending tanks into six West Bank cities and killing more than 50 Palestinians in the two weeks preceding the rally.

“When we see the waves of blind hatred washing over our country and hear the racist speeches, we are witnessing the victory of Yigal Amir [Rabin’s murderer],” read a leaflet distributed by one of the youth groups. “Don’t let the murderer be the winner,” were the words blazed across an enormous banner, with the same slogan repeated on many hand-drawn placards. “Peace—the sane retaliation” read a sticker seen throughout the square, while another sticker proclaimed, “Rabin is Oslo and Oslo is Hope.” Graffiti scrawled on the wall of the nearby Tel Aviv town hall read, “If we lose hope we still have love.”

Peace Now raised two enormous banners, reading respectively, “Down with the occupation!” and “Negotiations now!” The top of each banner, pulled aloft by big balloons, rose fully six meters in the air. No one on the podium could have missed seeing it.

A very active and conspicuous contingent from the Women’s Peace Coalition stood at the front of the crowd. In the photo on the front page of the next day’s Ma’ariv, their slogans could be read: “Back to the ‘67 borders—now!”; “Jerusalem—capital of two states,”and “Only the occupation’s end will bring peace!”

Gush Shalom distributed leaflets that read: “The blood cries out from the earth—and we are silent. Every day ‘liquidations’ are carried out—and we get used to it. War crimes are perpetrated in our name—and we accept it. Rabin’s Dream is being murdered in front of our eyes—and we keep silent. Enough of silence! Let us cry out: down with Sharon’s government of blood—get out of the bloody swamp of the territories!”

Gush Shalom also passed out stickers bearing the combined flags of Israel and Palestine. Two actual flags, flying from a single pole held aloft by a Gush activist, were violently torn down and confiscated by the police.

The high point of the rally was the performance of Aviv Gefen, the popular young singer whose name has been linked to that of Rabin since his performance on that fateful night six years ago. For this year’s performance, Gefen chose to sing the most outspoken piece in his repertoire:

Let’s march into the dream/without races and nations.

Let’s just try/ ‘til things become better.

Let’s bury the guns/ not the children.

Let’s just try/ ‘til things become better.

Let’s conquer the peace/ not the territories.

Let’s just try/ ‘til things become better...

Youngsters joined lustily in the refrain, and just for a moment it was truly a peace rally, as a peace rally should be.

—Adam Keller

Pen Pals for Peace

I first met Taghreed in Beirut’s Shatila refugee camp in the summer of 2001. She is a 22-year-old Palestinian girl whose family has lived in Shatila since fleeing their home in 1948. Taghreed’s family have been refugees for 53 years, exiles in a strange land with little opportunity for work or education. Their plight is considered the most difficult hurdle toward attaining Arab-Israeli peace, and with good reason: Taghreed is one of over 5 million Palestinian refugees who demand their rights of return and compensation for their massive losses, estimated at anywhere from $2 billion to $35 billion.

I had decided to spend my summer volunteering at a refugee camp in Beirut. A friend there got me in touch with a representative of the Najdeh Association, a Lebanese NGO that works in and around Lebanon’s refugee camps. Their programs, she told me, are intended primarily to help women and children become more conscious and active members of their society. It sounded good. We arranged to meet the next day, and I would be taken on a tour of Shatila camp, situated smack in the middle of Beirut.

“Around 20,000 people live in Shatila camp,” my guide informed me, “the majority Palestinian. It has an area of about 1.5 square kilometers [0.6 square miles].” As we walked along, I was assaulted by a mixture of emotions; the camp is at once depressing and inspirational. Buildings, all constructed illegally and with little structural integrity, lean against one another, threatening to collapse at any moment. Children scamper down tight alleys lined with trash and damp with sewage.

Throughout the chaos, however, I felt a sense of determination and pride more striking than the appalling environment. It was the pride of a people who would not give up, who maintained good cheer in spite of their suffering. Still, in what is truly a concrete jungle, the needs of society’s smallest victims often go unfulfilled. Through its pre-school education program, the Najdeh Association accomplishes a dual victory in this regard—it prepares young children for their studies at the school run by the United Nations Relief and Work Agency (UNRWA), and it provides day care so that their mothers can work to earn extra money.

I began working primarily with children’s theater projects, and eventually decided to start teaching an English class to older students as well. That’s where I met Taghreed. She was one of my brightest students, always seated at the head of the class, taking notes and chastising her best friend, Thimar, for not paying attention.

Thimar invited me once to visit her family in their home near Shatila (many of the refugees have purchased small homes in Beirut neighborhoods bordering the camp, which is too small to hold their growing numbers). Her mother is a Lebanese citizen who fell in love with and married a Palestinian from Shatila. Under Lebanese law, her citizenship does not transfer to him or his children; thus, while Thimar’s mother is legally allowed to work in Lebanon, her husband and children are not. They remain Palestinians by law, and thus are denied many of the basic rights enjoyed by most Lebanese civilians.

On the way back from her home, I asked Thimar why one of her friends who had planned on joining us did not show up. Apparently, the girl’s brother had seen her walking along with us on the street. He had beaten her for being in the presence of a male without a chaperone, and had forbidden her to go. That’s life in Shatila, especially for many of the young girls who live there: oppression comes both from outside and from within. The dangers of camp life, which is becoming increasingly dominated by gang politics, necessitate harsh rules that often have tragic consequences.

It was the recognition of these realities, and their stark contrast with anything that I had experienced in the Unied States, that led me to start a new program in cooperation with the Najdeh Association. Called Pen Pals for Peace, the program is an internationally based, humanitarian initiative intended to promote intercultural communication and understanding between children in the U.S. and Palestinian refugee children in Lebanon. It involves a monthly letter exchange between American schools and the Najdeh Association’s Shatila kindergarten.

The program was set up to benefit both communities: it would tell refugee children, who live in a community which UNRWA calls “among the most disadvantaged of any field,” that they are not alone. Also, contact with kids from a different culture would enrich the lives of the American schoolchildren from Michigan, Ohio, Tennessee, and New York, who were originally to be involved. The latter objective, however, recently has come under some fire.

The events of Sept. 11 set back the Pen Pals for Peace program indefinitely. Not only has international mail—especially from Lebanon, particularly to Washington, DC—
become a much more tedious process, but American partners now are questioning whether contact with young Palestinians is still such a good idea. One Tennessee teacher, who asked not to be named, noted that she was “afraid of frightening the kids” by exposing them to the harshness of refugee life.

I recently got a letter from my friend Shadi, another former student in Shatila. “How is U.S.A.?” he asked. “Are they still angry from Arabian people?” Perhaps not. But ignorance abounds, with misperceptions and caution enough to make anyone nervous, and to wreck a program that should bring kids closer together. Some partner schools still are interested, however. Hopefully, with their participation, and the passage of time that heals (almost) all wounds, the program will be revived. Until then, as Shadi says at the end of every letter, “I wait.”

—Nizar K. Wattad