From December 8 to 18, 2024, a delegation of nine peasant-farmers traveled to Palestine, in the West Bank. All their organizations are part of the international peasant movement La Via Campesina, which also includes the Palestinian organization UAWC (Union of Agricultural Work Committees) as a member. For many years, La Via Campesina has stood in solidarity with Palestinian peasants in their struggle against colonization, land and water grabs, and the numerous human rights violations they endure. However, since 2023, the scale of massacres in Gaza and the openly genocidal intentions of the far-right Israeli government have led La Via Campesina to intensify its solidarity work with Palestinian farmers. Organizing a delegation visit to the West Bank thus gradually became an imperative. Due to the obstacles posed by the Israeli state for accessing Palestinian territories, all delegates were European, hailing from the Basque Country, Galicia, Italy, Portugal, Ireland, and France. We, Fanny and Morgan, are both small-scale farmers, based in Ardèche and Brittany, and members of the Confédération Paysanne. The following texts are our journal from these ten days, which profoundly changed our lives and worldview. [Access all the notes here].
Day 8 – Hebron
Morgan
After breakfast, we go to visit the “treasure room”: UAWC’s seed bank. In most countries, the state is in charge of collecting and preserving seed heritage. As the Palestinian Authority does not have the means to do so, in Palestine, it is UAWC that carries out this mission that is vital for agriculture. 76 plant varieties are stored here, mostly vegetable seeds. We are impressed by the serious approach and technical refinement of the conservation practices. Germination tests are carried out regularly on all the batches. Rooms at different temperatures and humidity levels are used for the stages of conservation. There are also large freezers. Kelo, who is himself a seed producer in the Basque Country, is deeply impressed. We see some very specialised machines: sorters, driers, germinators, etc. The team from the seed bank explains to us that the most important element is not here, but rather in the fields of the Palestinian peasants who use these seeds, ensuring their reproduction and selection, to allow constant adaptation of the grains to different soils and to changes in climate. A network of more than a thousand peasants participates in this work. Fuad explains that UAWC is trying to have the seeds sent to Gaza, as it is vital that peasants in the enclave should be able to restart agricultural production to produce the food that is so urgently needed at the moment. The threat of an Israeli army raid on the building that houses the seed bank is also a grave concern. For this reason, they have decided to store the seeds in different places in Palestine, and also at the Svalbard Global Seed Vault in Spitzbergen.
Our small delegation then goes to the offices of the Governorate of Hebron, where we are received by the Governor, Khalid Doudin. He explains to us some details about the town of Hebron: Since 1997, the town has been separated in to two zones, H1 and H2. H1 is under Palestinian administration, and H2 is under Israeli administration. A settlement of nearly 1,000 Israelis has been established in the heart of the city of 225,000 inhabitants. The Palestinians who live in the H2 zone are submitted to daily harassment by the Israeli soldiers and settlers. This situation has worsened since 7th October 2023: Palestinians in the H2 zone no longer have the right to leave their homes freely; they are in a sort of confinement, only authorised to go into the fresh air for a few hours a day. The Governor describes the terrible consequences for the town’s economy: Hebron has always been a dynamic economic centre, and a popular tourist destination. Now, a large part of the population is unemployed. Khalid gives us an example of a plan for a waste water treatment centre. They had obtained authorisation from the Israeli administration, work had been carried out, then when the project was completed, the Israelis finally decided that it was illegal, and they destroyed it, putting a military base in its place. The Governate faces the same dishonest strategy when it comes to setting up industrial zones.
At the end of the visit, we receive a gift of traditional scarves: black with colours woven in for the women, and black and white with portraits of Yasser Arafat and Mahmoud Abbas for the men.
Fanny
We set off from Hebron for the village of Altwaneh, a rural community where most families farm livestock. It is clear that the schools here have been targeted. A few days ago, we saw a short documentary filmed in this area, showing settlers attacking the schools, the pupils, and the teachers… They do all they can to deny the Palestinian children the opportunity to learn to read and write, to have access to education, and to be able to emancipate themselves.
To support the families in this region, the comrades at UAWC are sending each child a school bag, school supplies, and a jacket. They use our visit as an opportunity to do so.
On the way, we see many settlements, built close to the road. They have grabbed all the good arable land to plant wheat, lentils and other crops. We also go past many of their factory farms, where there is intensive farming of dairy cows. We see prime holstein cows confined to covered sheds covered with photovoltaic panels. These “farms” are like settlements, surrounded by tall gates, barbed wire, and electric fences. Quite a set-up…
We arrive in the village in the highlands, and the bus parks in the school courtyard. A crowd of children run to greet us. There is a feeling of euphoria in the air, we are welcomed with broad smiles and big laughing eyes of all colours.
I am surprised to see so many people with light eyes: grey, green, and blue. Tamam, who has blue eyes, says with a laugh “I thought I was exceptional in Palestine, but I guess not!”
We go into a classroom for the presentation of the bags and jackets. There are teachers, village leaders, and parents of pupils. We are joined by an official responsible for education. We see a procession of children of all ages. It is a joyful occasion, and we have a great time watching the bold ones and the timid ones.
Then, the adults share their testimony. They tell us how there are stones thrown at the school bus and the children on their way to school. How the children that live in the villages on the other side of the settlements can no longer attend school. How the teachers are often prevented from coming, as the settlers block their way. One of the teachers tells us that he regularly comes in on a donkey, as that is the only way to reach the school. “The right to education and the right to work are trampled almost daily.” The official responsible for education says with feeling. “Nowhere else in the world is the right to education suppressed so lightly; schools are demolished here. Where is the international community?”
After the presentation of the bags, there is an award ceremony for all the teachers, and Morgan, as the representative of La Via Campesina, is once more at the table with the ‘officials’. I would not like to be in her place, but I see how she takes on these responsibilities with simple dignity. Meanwhile, I talk to 3 international volunteers who we have just met. Aurélien, a young man from France, has been in Palestine for 3 months, and he tells me a bit about their day-to-day life, including their mission as ‘human shields’ to enable peasants to go to the fields and children to go to school, and how they help out the families in the fields and around the village. We say that it would be great for them to share their experiences to encourage future volunteers, imagining a meeting with the youth groups of the Confédération Paysanne and La Via Campesina.. We exchange contact details, and plan to meet up.
Morgan
On the way to Hebron, I express my surprise to Fuad: since the start of our stay in Palestine, we have not had the impression that Islam plays a very prominent role in everyday life. During our visit to the school and the award ceremony for the teachers, we might have expected there to be a prayer or a reference to Almighty God. But we saw none of this. During many meetings, be it with peasants or with officials, at no time were we interrupted to allow our hosts to go and pray. I know Indonesia well, and by comparison, the Islamic religion in particular plays a much more prominent role: for example, one of the first questions we are asked when we meet someone new is “what is your religion?”. This doesn’t happen in Palestine. To tell the truth, we don’t even know if Sana, Tamam, and Aghsan are religious or not, and if so, what their religion is. Fuad explains to me that each person is free to practise or not whichever religion they choose, but relations between people do not depend on this criterion. He tells me that he does not know if some of his close friends are Muslim or Christian, and it doesn’t matter. This is so far removed from what they tell us in France, where Palestinians are presented as dangerous Islamists.
The minibus enters the town of Hebron, going through narrow streets, past old brick buildings, and it parks. As soon as we get out, kids shout to us and try to sell us little things. Other children are begging. We are surprised: so far, we have not seen any beggars. We go into the covered market. However, almost all the shops are shut. The traders who keep their shop open are standing idle. We are the only visitors today. The vendors press around us, each of them wanting us to go to their shop; we are probably their only opportunity that day to earn a bit of money. Fuad explains to them that first we are going to see the Mosque, and we will come back later.
In the same way that a visit to the Church of the Nativity is a must if you go to Bethlehem, in Hebron, our hosts insist on taking us to see the Ibrahimi Mosque and the Tomb of the Patriarchs. It is a holy place for the three Religions of the Book. According to tradition, this is the burial place of Abraham and his wife Sarah, Jacob, Isaac, and other matriarchs and patriarchs. The temple is said to have been built by Herod in the 1st Century BC, and converted into a church under the Byzantine Empire in the 5th and 6th Centuries, then into a mosque from the 7th Century. The cross was lifted over site again in the 12th Century, when it was turned back into a church. From the end of the 12th Century, the Ottoman Empire took the upper hand once more, and the site was turned back into a mosque.
One hundred metres further on, entry to the holy site is blocked by a checkpoint. Fuad approaches the female soldier and they have a discussion in Hebrew. We feel the tension, but we do not understand what is said. Later, Tamam explains to us.
The soldier: “What nationality are they?”
Fuad: “Italian, French, Portuguese, Spanish, and Irish.”
“What do you have in those bags?”
“Clothes, wallets, their stuff, you know – what do you expect to be in there?”
“If you say one more word I will put a bullet in your head.”
“What?”
“Answer my questions!”
“I am answering your questions.”
The soldier takes out her phone and calls a colleague at the second checkpoint. “I’m not sure about them, you should search them thoroughly.”
We go through the security gate one by one. It is an imposing structure that looks like a cage, similar to the ones that we saw the day before at the entrance to the Dheisheh Refugee Camp. We now have to go through the second security control. Fuad enters the guard house, then sends us through one by one. We state our nationality, another female soldier opens our bags, then we go out through the other door. It is Sana’s turn.
“Where do you come from?”
“Palestine.”
The soldier shouts “What? Where do you come from?”
“I live here, I come from here.”
The soldier screams “Where do you come from?”
“I come from Ramallah.”
The soldier empties Sana’s bag. She finds the Palestinian scarf presented that morning by the Governor. The soldier is furious. She shakes the scarf: “This is Israel, you don’t have the right to have this!” She confiscates the scarf and starts to check Sana’s record on her computer. Luckily, Sana has never been prosecuted. After some long minutes, she can finally leave.
Sana feels rattled. She tells us, “When they ask me my nationality, what am I supposed to say? I didn’t say that to provoke her. What was I supposed to respond??? I am a Palestinian, I have a Palestinian passport. Foreigners here have the right to come and visit the Mosque, but look at how they treat the people who live here. We have no right to exist!”
Tamam, Aghsan and Fuad witnessed the scene. They are all in shock. Fuad sighs that if there were no Europeans here, they would never have been able to pass. The guard at the Mosque hurries us in as prayers are about to begin and non-Muslims have to leave beforehand. We do not have time to think about what has happened, instead rushing into the sacred building. We take off our shoes, and each woman puts on a blue cape with a hood. The Mosque is almost empty, which comes as a great surprise to us, considering the difficulty we had getting in. Tamam breaks down in tears. Fuad explains to us that right here, in 1994, at the height of Ramadan, a Jewish fanatic came in and machine-gunned the crowd of worshippers. 29 people were killed and more than a hundred were injured. After this massacre, there were riots in Hebron and across the West Bank. This is the event that the Israeli state used as an excuse for splitting the building in two: one part to be a synagogue, and the other a mosque. After this, Hebron was also divided into two zones, and the Israelis took control of the eastern part of the city, H2. Fuad shows us the tombs of Abraham and Sarah, in the centre of a mausoleum with two opposite glass windows, one for Muslims, one for Jews. On the other side, through the glass, we can see people in the synagogue section. A little further away, Fuad shows us a niche in the rock, with a footmark: it is a relic of “Mohammed’s foot”. The partition that separates the Mosque from the Synagogue is there. We hear people praying on the other side.
We leave the Mosque and go back through the security gates. We are all silent and sad. Once more, we are assailed by vendors from the souk. Fuad explains to us that we should not blame them, because they have faced a terrible economic situation for several years, and it has been even worse since October 2023. We decide to do a bit of shopping here: some incense, a purse, a woven cushion cover, a pretty scarf. Then we go on through the covered alleyways of the old market. The souk has about 800 businesses, of which less than 50 are still open. The alleys are narrow and dark, covered by a sort of roof and netting a metre or two above our heads. The entire left-hand side of the market is overlooked by the houses of settlers, with many Israeli flags. The merchants tell us that the settlers throw stones, rubbish, and human excrement at them from their windows… The Palestinian local authority has had to put these structures in place to protect the vendors and their customers.
In a small square, Tamam shows us one of the oldest cafés in Hebron, normally a busy and joyful place. It is almost empty. When we reach there, we realise that Malu is not with us. Tamam explains to us that she did not feel well after the visit to the Mosque, and Sana accompanied her to the minibus before rejoining us. The delegation moves on through the old town, then we head out into an open space. Carlos, with his usual good humour, negotiates with the vendors, and gets a small cardamom coffee. He has not seen the large building draped in Israeli flags and the watchtower. Sana is nervous. “The soldier up there is looking at us.” She goes back to look for Carlos: “Come quickly, we can’t stay here!” He looks around and suddenly understands the situation. A wall cuts off access to a perpendicular road. There is an Israeli flag on each front door. This is the heart of the settlement, in the very centre of Hebron, a highly militarised enclave. There are thought to be about 2,000 soldiers stationed here to defend 700 or 800 Israelis.
There is a market selling vegetables and other fresh food in the next road. We are plunged back into a lively, convivial atmosphere. Our minibus is parked there. We meet up with Malu again. Fuad buys some biscuits and sesame rolls. We need this sugar hit to recover from the terrible spectacle of oppression that is a fact of day-to-day life for the inhabitants of Hebron.
Fanny
After walking through the strikingly empty streets of the old town, seeing the desperation of the traders, and feeling the oppression of the soldiers, we move straight on to a Palestinian area that is full of life. The streets are lined with stalls, businesses are open, and the people are smiling. How many times have we heard people say “welcome!” since we arrived in Hebron? We are greeted warmly, and people keep telling us that we are welcome.
I have rarely felt so warmly received during a trip. Maybe the situation is so tense when we see the presence of settlers and soldiers that the pressure really eases off and we feel safe when we leave?
That may be so, but it’s not the only reason. I can imagine how painful it must be for the Palestinians to see the Israeli and Western media denounce them as dangerous terrorists. I can also imagine that they feel the need to show who they are, and to demonstrate their characteristically generous, welcoming attitude.
We leave the town centre. Fuad takes us to the oldest and last remaining factory in the country producing keffiyehs, the scarf that symbolises the struggle of the Palestinian people. In the workshop, several looms are running, the shuttles go back and forth quickly, and the coloured threads are ingeniously woven together. The noise is quite deafening, but it is familiar to me. In the Saint-Etienne region where I grew up, textiles, especially woven ribbons, are at the heart of family history.
We rummage through everything in the adjoining shop, comparing colours and designs, and we go on a shopping spree. On behalf of UAWC, Fuad presents each of us with an original black and white keffiyeh. We are touched, and we say to each other that we had better hide them to cross the border. This reminds me that some of my friends have been questioned and repressed by the French police for wearing a keffiyeh on the streets of Paris a few weeks after 7th October. When fines are imposed for wearing a keffiyeh, this shows the extent to which the French government has chosen a side.
It is late in the afternoon, and we still have not eaten.
Fuad takes us to a sort of fast-food place, which is unremarkable, but we get fantastic shawarmas there. We take the opportunity to go round and hear everyone’s impressions, and it is only now that we realise what really happened at the Mosque.
Tamam, Sana and Aghsan, who have not been to the old town in Hebron for two years, have tears in their eyes, and even Fuad is shocked by what he has seen today. It all happened so quickly. The atmosphere is heavy and sad. But just at that moment, Carlos gets up, and interrupts our conversation – he has just found a banknote on the ground. Three days earlier, he found 300 shekels on the street, and we were joking about it for hours. Not again?!
Mustapha films the scene, and when he laughs, we realise that he has just played a trick on Carlos. We all burst out laughing. Once again, we pass from tears to joy.