A-Sawahrah a-Sharqiyah and a-Sheikh Sa’ed isolated from rest of East Jerusalem

26 May 2015

A-Sheikh Sa’ed checkpoint. Photo: 'Amer 'Aruri, B'Tselem, 11 Feb. 2015

The villages of a-Sheikh Sa’ed and a-Sawahrah a-Sharqiyah have been artificially cut off from East Jerusalem by an eight-meter-high wall. Before this partition was built, the two villages formed a contiguous urban bloc with East Jerusalem and, in particular, with the villages of Jabal al-Mukabber and a-Sawahrah al-Gharbiyah to its south with which they shared extensive family, commercial and cultural ties. A-Sheikh Sa’ed is home to some 2,000 residents, and a-Sawahrah a-Sharqiyah, situated some two kilometers to its north, has a population of approximately 6,000.

In 1967, immediately after Israel occupied the West Bank, it annexed extensive areas east of these villages to the municipal area of Jerusalem. Although the two villages were not included in the area annexed, during the first few decades after annexation this distinction had no impact on the residents’ lives. Passage between the annexed area and the remainder of the West Bank was routine and unremarkable. East Jerusalem served as the urban center for the residents of these two villages, with many of them working in the city. It also provided the residents’ health and education services. In addition, people who lived in the annexed area would sometimes move into these villages.

This reality changed in the mid-1990s, when Israel began to separate the villages from the area of East Jerusalem by means of obstructions and checkpoints. In 2003, a route for the Separation Barrier in the area was decided, and on 26 August 2003 work began or erecting a temporary barbed wire fence. The residents of Sheikh Sa’ed appealed the course fixed, and in March 2006 the Appellate Committee for the Separation Barrier accepted their appeal. The committee found that “in historical terms, Sheikh Sa’ed forms a part of Jabal al-Mukabber, which lies within the area of Jerusalem”, and the route of the barrier was disproportionate and violated the rights of Sheik Sa’ed’s residents to life, liberty and dignity. The Appellate Committee instructed the state to reexamine the course of the barrier in the area. However, the state appealed this decision to the High Court of Justice, arguing that the committee had ignored the security-related ramifications inherent in an alternative course that would annex the village to the area of Jerusalem. In 2010 the High Court of Justice accepted the state’s petition, thereby approving the course of the Separation Barrier in the area.

A-Sawahrah a-Sharqiyah checkpoint. Photo: 'Amer 'Aruri, B'Tselem, 11 Feb. 2015

The construction of the Separation Barrier separated the two populations in one fell swoop, leaving Jerusalem residents east of the barrier and the residents of a-Sawahrah a-Sharqiyah and a-Sheikh Sa’ed to its west. Nearly a decade later, the residents of the villages remain isolated and disconnected from their families, places of work and service centers on the other side of the Separation Barrier.

After the construction of the Separation Barrier and checkpoints in the area, Israeli authorities imposed a series of arbitrary restrictions on the residents of the villages, exacerbating the forced isolation, classifying the residents into four separate categories:

1,300 residents of a-Sawahrah a-Sharqiyah who hold Israeli identity cards, live adjacent to the a-Sawahrah a-Sharqiyah Checkpoint, or work in international organizations: The names of these residents are on a list maintained at a-Sawahrah a-Sharqiyah Checkpoint. For the past year or so, they have been permitted to cross this checkpoint by car to go into East Jerusalem and return home. This arrangement is valid only from 6:00 A.M. to 6:00 P.M.
Residents of a-Sawahrah a-Sharqiyah and a-Sheikh Sa’ed who hold Israeli identity cards (with a registered address in Jabal al-Mukabber): These residents are permitted to cross a-Sheikh Sa’ed Checkpoint as pedestrians (in both directions) as well as a-Sawahrah a-Sharqiyah Checkpoint (only in one direction – out of East Jerusalem). Alternatively, to travel by car, they must take a long, hour-long detour and cross at a-Za’ayem Checkpoint.
Residents of a-Sawahrah a-Sharqiyah who hold West Bank identity cards and entry permits to Israel can enter the city solely through a-Zaytun or a-Za’ayem Checkpoints. They are prohibited to cross via a-Sawahrah a-Sharqiyah Checkpoint.
Residents of a-Sheikh Sa’ed who hold West Bank identity cards and entry permits to Israel are permitted to cross only at a-Sheikh Sa’ed Checkpoint and only on foot.

Residents of East Jerusalem who live in the city and wish to visit a-Sawahrah a-Sharqiyah or a-Sheikh Sa’ed by car may do so solely via a-Za’ayem Checkpoint. Alternatively, on foot, they can leave Jerusalem via a-Sheikh Sa’ed Checkpoint; however, they cannot re-enter the city through this checkpoint.

These draconian, convoluted restrictions severely hamper daily life and maintaining relationships between the residents of the villages and their relatives on the other side of the Separation Barrier. Brothers and sisters, parents and children have been separated from each other. Due to the considerable difficulties in crossing, many of them meet only rarely, on religious holidays or for family celebrations or milestones. Moreover, many residents have lost their jobs and find it difficult to obtain the services they once received in Jerusalem.

The Separation Barrier has also created a problem concerning burial. The cemetery serving both villages is situated in Jabal al-Mukabber, on the other side of the Separation Barrier. In order to attend the funeral of a resident of a-Sawahrah a-Sharqiyah or a-Sheikh Sa’ed, village residents must enter East Jerusalem. Security forces at the checkpoint allow only fifty residents, including relatives of the deceased, to cross the checkpoint and take part in the funeral. After the funeral, relatives find it difficult to visit the grave due to the restrictions detailed above.

S.G., a married mother of five who lives in a-Sawahrah a-Sharqiyah, recounted the following to B’Tselem field researcher ‘Amer ‘Aruri:

I was born in Jabal al-Mukabber, East Jerusalem. In 1991 I married a man from a-Sawahrah a-Sharqiyah with a Palestinian identity card. At that time, a-Sawahrah a-Sharqiyah and Jabal al-Mukabber formed a single geographical area. There were no military checkpoints and no Separation Barrier dividing relatives and people. Residents in both areas belonged to the same families. I gave birth to my five daughters at hospitals in East Jerusalem…

Before military army checkpoints were put in place, I used to visit my family in Jabal al-Mukabber once a week. It took five minutes to get from y home to theirs… Today I visit my family once every three months. Naturally, every visit involves delays at the checkpoint and questions and answers about my identity card. Also my relatives, who used to visit me every week before there was a checkpoint, now come only on special occasions, such as religious holidays or during the month of Ramadan. My mom and dad are elderly and they can’t walk across the a-Sawahrah a-Sharqiyah Checkpoint to get to my home. They prefer to come by car, and that means they have to travel via a-Za’ayem Checkpoint, and that’s a long trip.

N.G. was also born in Jabal al-Mukabber and lives with her husband in a-Sawahrah a-Sharqiyah:

The checkpoint separates me from my family. My mom is elderly and she’s gone blind. She can’t come to visit me on her own by crossing the checkpoint on foot. It’s too hard for her. So usually one of my brothers drives her through a-Za’ayem Checkpoint – it takes them about an hour instead of being a five minute-drive. It’s become so visits are only on holidays, special occasions, and during Ramadan. Their most recent visit was on the holiday of ‘Id al-Adha – eight months ago. Before the checkpoint was put in place, I’d just call them and invite them to pop over because I’d made one of their favorite dishes, and they’d be here within five minutes.

The arbitrary restrictions imposed by the authorities on the residents’ movements disrupt almost every aspect of their lives. They keep families apart and make it difficult for residents to pursue their everyday lives. There is no justification for these restrictions, security or otherwise. It is also difficult to understand their underlying logic: Why was the number fifty fixed as the number of people allowed to attend a funeral? Why can someone use a particular checkpoint only in order to return home, but is prohibited from using the same checkpoint to go to work?

Israel must remove the barrier, which artificially severs an urban, historical, and cultural continuum and greatly disrupts the lives of tens of thousands of people. Until it does so, Israel must permit regular passage between these villages and East Jerusalem in such a way as to allow the residents of the isolated villages lead normal lives.

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The village of Beit Iksa. Photo: Arij GIS unit, 21 Feb. 2011

Restrictions on Movement

Isolated: Israel cuts village of Beit Iksa off from East Jerusalem and the rest of the West Bank

The Palestinian village of Beit Iksa lies northwest of Jerusalem, within the West Bank but outside the municipal jurisdiction of Jerusalem. Over the years, land surrounding the village and some plots of land owned by villagers were seized for the establishment of Ramot Alon, a settlement that functions as a neighborhood of East Jerusalem, and Har Shmuel, a neighborhood in the settlement of Giv’at Ze’ev. In 2010, fifty more dunams of village land were confiscated for the Tel Aviv Jerusalem railway. According to a 2007 West Bank census, some 1,900 people live in the village. Many of them are residents of Jerusalem who have Israeli identity cards. Unlike other Palestinian villages in the area, which are surrounded by a fence separating them from Israel, the eastern side of Beit Iksa – which faces the neighborhood of Ramot – is not fenced in. It lies only several hundred meters away from the Israeli neighborhood, separated from it only by a valley. However, the village is separated from nearby Palestinian communities by an electronic fence along its northwestern side that connects to the Separation Barrier. In 2009, Ha’aretz reported that the Israeli government had decided in 2006 to leave the village on the Palestinian side of the Separation Barrier – although according to the original route of the barrier, it was set to remain on the “Israeli” side. According to the article, the reason for this decision was the fact that Beit Iksa overlooks the area of Ramot and Highway 1 and that land previously purchased by Israelis lies adjacent to the village. However, no fence was erected between Beit Iksa and Israel; instead, Israel put up the electronic fence around the northwestern part of Beit Iksa, which the security establishment has defined as “temporary”. In 2008, Israel began setting up flying checkpoints on the outskirts of the village. In 2010, a permanent checkpoint was installed some four kilometers northwest of the village center, toward the neighboring Palestinian village of Bidu. The checkpoint controls the only entrance into Beit Iksa. Since then, Israeli security forces have allowed only people registered as village residents on their identity cards or bearing a special permit to enter the village. The special permits are issued upon completion of a security background check and are largely reserved for people who work regularly in the village, such as teachers and employees of the local medical clinic. The Israeli authorities also issue temporary permits in what they term “humanitarian cases”, such as family celebrations or funerals and mourning rituals, but then, too, restrict the number and age of persons allowed into the village. In 2010, along with the installation of the permanent checkpoint at the entrance to the village, Israel also closed off the road leading from the village to Jerusalem via Ramot with a gate that remains closed. This has extended travel time from the village to Jerusalem by at least half an hour, as residents who hold Israeli identity cards now have to drive to Ramallah and from there to Qalandia checkpoint in order to enter the city. Consequently, the villagers are cut off not only from the rest of the West Bank but also from Jerusalem, which used to be their historical center of life in the district. Since 2010, some fifty families with Israeli identity cards have left the village due to their forced isolation from Jerusalem. These families, which number some 600 people according to local council estimates, have retained their assets in the village, are still registered as its residents, and periodically come back to visit. The checkpoint the military installed at the entrance to Beit Iksa. Photo by Iyad Hadad, B’Tselem, 7 June 2016. The severe restrictions on access to the village make it difficult for local businesses and residents to receive wares and equipment. Many suppliers are not permitted to enter the village, so clients have to go to the checkpoint to collect their goods. Some suppliers are allowed in after a process of coordination with the village council or with the Palestinian Authority, but even they are sometimes delayed at length or ultimately denied entrance. Village residents coming home with goods purchased elsewhere are also delayed at times, although there is no official restriction on bringing merchandise into the village. The Israeli authorities chose not to build the Separation Barrier along the Green Line in the area, instead annexing the village de facto to Jerusalem. However, they also aim to prevent Palestinians from the West Bank from entering Israel via Beit Iksa. The solution they found, to impose draconic restrictions on anyone wishing to enter the village, reflects absolute prioritization of Israeli interests over protection of the Palestinian residents’ rights. The severe restrictions have turned Beit Iksa into an isolated community, and this isolation makes it very hard for the village residents to maintain social and family ties and to access workplaces and other services in East Jerusalem and throughout the West Bank. The restrictions also make it difficult for workers, suppliers and other service providers to enter the village, disrupting daily life there and curtailing the council’s ability to provide residents with basic services. These arbitrary, draconian restrictions deny the residents of Beit Iksa the ability to lead reasonable daily lives and cause severe harm to the entire village. The closed gate the army installed on the road from Beit Iksa to Jerusalem, in the top right – the fence around Ramot. Photo by Iyad Hadad, B’Tselem, 15 August 2016 Over the past two years, B’Tselem field researcher Iyad Hadad collected testimonies from people who live and work in the village about the impact of these restrictions on their lives: Ahmad Faqih, 31, from the neighboring village of Qatanah, drives a bus on the Beit Iksa-Ramallah line. On 26 July 2016, he related the difficulties that he and the passengers encounter upon reaching the checkpoint: I’m not from Beit Iksa but from the neighboring village, Qatanah. They let me through the checkpoint because I’m the bus driver. But every now and then they are especially strict, and then they harass me and don’t let me in. In 2014, during the attack on Gaza, that happened five or six times. I had to call the other bus driver to come to the checkpoint and pick up the passengers. There are no official regulations at the checkpoint, only informal practices that have become standard procedure. I’m ordered to stop twenty meters before the checkpoint and wait for a sign from one of the guards. That usually takes a few minutes, but sometimes it takes longer – depending on the mood of the guards or on current security events. After the guards give me the signal, I drive up to the inspection point and all the passengers get out except the elderly. A guard gets on the bus, checks the identity cards of passengers who stayed inside, and makes sure they are all who they say they are and over seventy years of age. Anyone younger is told to get off the bus. Sometimes, they allow sick people or mothers with babies or little children to stay on the bus. The rest of the passengers line up outside. A guard stands at the door of the bus and the passengers come up to him one by one and show their identity cards. He only lets residents of Beit Iksa and the elderly – even if they are not from Beit Iksa – back onto the bus. The age limit varies according to the guard’s mood. Sometimes it’s anyone over fifty, but it can also be over 55 or sixty. It usually takes them about ten to twenty minutes to check all the cards, depending on the number of passengers. On days when they’re strict, it can take hours. Ahmad Liqianiyah, 29, from Beit Iksa, related in a testimony he gave on 28 June 2016 how he had to hold his wedding outside the village: I got engaged two-and-a-half years ago. My wife, Layali Diab, comes from the village of ‘Arura near Ramallah. The engagement dragged out because it took about a year and a half to change her address to Beit Iksa so she could come live with me. The first request I filed was rejected, so I had to hire a private lawyer for about 530 US dollars. In the end, my wife was only granted the address update after we got married and submitted our marriage certificate. We had the wedding in my wife’s village in June 2015. We couldn’t have it in Beit Iksa because the guests weren’t allowed into the village. But since we had it in ‘Arura, an hour’s drive away, a lot of people from my village couldn’t attend. The wedding was expensive because we had to hire buses and other vehicles to transport the guests, and the wedding hall in ‘Arura cost me much more than it would have cost to have the wedding in Beit Iksa. We got over all the hurdles around the wedding, but then the real suffering began. It’s been especially hard for my wife, who feels that she is slowly losing touch with her family. Since we got married, her parents are the only members of her family who have managed to visit her in the village. Even that was only allowed after council members coordinated it for them. Her parents have only visited us six or seven times in two years. The security situation makes it impossible from them to come sometimes. It’s the month of Ramadan now, and it’s customary for parents to visit their daughter and in general, for relatives to pay visits to each other. Because of the checkpoint, we don’t have many visitors – only our closest relatives, and even then only those who manage to get into the village. It makes us feel cut off and socially isolated. My wife is about to give birth and I ask myself: what will our children’s lives be like? What sort of relationship will they have with their extended family? If my wife stays here in the village, how can her family help her with the children and stay in touch with her? Shahinaz ‘Abdallah, 46, lives in Beit Iksa with her husband and their five children. In a testimony she gave on 23 July 2015, she explained the impact of the authorities’ refusal to update her address on her daily life: I grew up in Jericho and married Iyad, a relative of mine from Beit Iksa, in 1992. At first we lived in al-‘Eizariyah, close to my husband’s workplace, and registered as residents of there. Our children were born and went to school there, and we had a house. But we kept in close touch with my husband’s family in Beit Iksa and with my mother, who had moved there too and is registered as a resident of the village. I have a sister and cousins in Beit Iksa, too. My children went there often, and we also used to visit on weekends and spend our summers there. We built a house in Beit Iksa to make it easier to visit and not inconvenience my in-laws. We lived like that until 2010, when Israel announced that it was going to put up a checkpoint at the entrance to the village and let only local residents in. We thought of our relationships with my husband’s parents and all our family in the village and were afraid they wouldn’t let us in any more. So I moved with the children to our house in Beit Iksa, and my husband stayed in al-‘Eizariyah, close to where he works. He visits us on the weekends. Since we moved to the village, we’ve submitted several requests with the Palestinian Ministry of the Interior to update our address, so we can get through the checkpoint without any hassle. My husband got his updated quickly because he was born in the village. My request was denied, and at first so were the children’s. The Palestinian Ministry of Interior told us that the Israelis had refused without giving any explanation. In the meantime, my older kids have been updated as residents of the village, but I’ve submitted four or five requests that were all denied. It makes my life miserable. I’m afraid to leave the village alone, because on my way back in I’m detained and questioned – why did I come, to whom am I related in the village, and so on. They check on the phone that I really live there. I’m usually kept at the checkpoint about fifteen to thirty minutes, supposedly for inspection. I have to argue with them until they let me in. At first I worked as a teacher at al-Jib, a village nearby. I’m also studying at Al-Quds University and am deputy director of the Women’s Association for Beit Iksa’s Development, so I have to travel a lot. I cannot be dependent on my husband to enter and leave the village. Beit Iksa Boys’ High School. Photo courtesy of the school. Mwafaq Mansur, 47 is a resident of the village of Bidu and the principal of the boys’ school in Beit Iksa. In a testimony he gave on 28 April 2015, he described how the checkpoint affects the school routine: I’ve been the principal of the boys’ school at Beit Iksa since 2004. I never had any trouble getting to the school and back but since they put up the checkpoint, I can only get into the village thanks to a document stating that I work at the school. They are 24 people who work at the school, and only eight of them are registered as residents of Beit Iksa. Almost every week, one of the teachers is kept at the checkpoint and allowed in late, or not at all. Permission to enter or leave the village depends on the mood of the guards and the police officers at the checkpoint. It’s impossible to even consider bringing in services from outside, such as a technician to fix the photocopy machine. The situation certainly interferes with the school. When a teacher is late or denied entry, the students miss a class. It weakens the entire school, creates confusion and disrupts the schedule. In the long run, you see the results in the students’ grades. When a teacher is kept out, we either have to find a substitute or I step in to replace him, as school principal. Fatimah Milo al-‘Ein, 32, from the village of Qatanah, works with a regional program for the rehabilitation and integration of people with disabilities. In a testimony she gave on 2 June 2015, she described how the restrictions on entering Beit Iksa make it difficult to do her job: I work in a community-based rehabilitation program for people with disabilities that is coordinated with local authorities, village councils and the Red Crescent. People with physical and mental disabilities take part in the program. I work in several villages in the area. We offer educational activities to raise awareness among people with disabilities and their parents. We also refer people to tests in special centers, counsel and train parents, help adjust homes to special needs, and integrate children into preschools, schools, and other centers. Thirty people with disabilities who live in Beit Iksa are registered with us. According to my work plan, I’m supposed to visit the village once a week, but because of the checkpoint I think several times before going there. I always worry that I won’t be allowed in because I’m from Qatanah. I’m often detained or denied entry to the village. Last March, for instance, I went to Beit Iksa with a specialist in diagnosing speech and learning impediments who came from Ramallah. We were held at the checkpoint for an hour and a half on the grounds that we weren’t registered as residents of Beit Iksa, even though I showed them my employee card from the Palestinian Red Crescent that always gets me into the village. Eventually we had to get the head of the council to intervene in order to let us in – which they agreed to do only on the condition that we left our identity cards at the checkpoint until we left. We arrived late at the preschool and only had time to examine some of the children on our list.

17 August 2016

Administrative Detention

2007 Annual Report

According to the report, the number of Israelis and Palestinians killed in clashes in the West Bank and the Gaza Strip dropped. However, there has been deterioration in many other measures of the human rights situation in the Occupied Territories.

1 December 2007

Taxi waiting for passengers outside the closed gate at the main entrance to ‘Azzun. Photo by Abdulkarim Sadi, B’Tselem, 2 Feb. 2017

Restrictions on Movement

Israeli military imposes 2½-week collective punishment on ‘Azzun’s 10,000 residents for actions by individuals

In late January 2017, the military blocked off vehicle access via the main entrance of Palestinian village of ‘Azzun - and kept the entrance shut nearly continuously for two and a half weeks - as collective punishment for incidents in which stones and Molotov cocktails were hurled and live ammunition fired at the major traffic artery that runs close to the village. ‘Azzun, which is home to some 10,000 people, lies east of the town of Qalqiliya, close to Route 55 that links the town with Nablus and serves as the main road in the area. As B’Tselem has reported, the eastern entrance to ‘Azzun, which is close to the settlements of Maale Shomron and Karnei Shomron, was blocked off by the military as far back as 1990. Since then, residents have used the three remaining entrances to the village: the north entrance, which is the main entrance and leads into Route 55, the north-western one, and the southern one. In 2016 the military closed the main entrance six times, for several hours each time. Taxi waiting for passengers outside the closed gate at the main entrance to ‘Azzun. Photo by Abdulkarim Sadi, B’Tselem, 2 Feb. 2017 On the afternoon of Thursday, 26 January 2017, the military closed the gate at the main entrance to the village and posted soldiers there to keep vehicles from getting through. The military also closed the gate at the north-western entrance, which leads to the neighboring village of ‘Izbat a-Tabib, and placed a checkpoint at the southern entrance, which leads to the village of Thulath. In addition, the military placed dirt piles to block off access to a tunnel that runs under Route 55, which residents of the village use to reach their farmland that lies north of the road. Youths from the village cleared away the dirt piles after a few days, enabling residents to use the tunnel again. Until then, the quickest way to access Route 55 was to drive along dirt roads that link ‘Azzun with the nearby village of ‘Asleh, and from there to ‘Izbat a-Tabib, which lies on Route 55. Map: ‘Azzun and its environs During the weeks that the main entrance was closed, the soldiers opened it at random times for several hours a time, without giving residents prior notice. Young men from the village opened the gate twice when soldiers were off duty, but the military closed it again. Blocking the main entrance to ‘Azzun also affected the 6,000 or so residents of villages to the south of ‘Azzun, as they need to drive through ‘Azzun to reach Route 55. Whenever the military closes off the ‘Azzun access point, these residents also have to take circuitous routes. The restrictions the military imposed on the freedom of movement of all Palestinians living in the area make daily life difficult for tens of thousands of people, including the workforce, students, merchants, and ill people – all residents of Area B. These repercussions demonstrate once again how Israel continues to control the lives of all Palestinians in the West Bank, not only those who live in areas designated Area C. On 5 February, about ten days after the entrances to ‘Azzun were closed, soldiers handed out pamphlets to pedestrians crossing the checkpoint. The text, written in Arabic, reads as follows: Residents of ‘Azzun: There has recently been a dangerous upsurge in incidents targeting Route 55 that involved throwing stones and Molotov cocktails, and gunfire. We declare that these attacks endanger the safety of Israeli and Palestinian residents of the area, and oblige the IDF to take essential measures in the area of ‘Azzun that may disrupt vehicular traffic and travel by residents, in order to protect the lives of innocent residents and respond to the violent incidents (attacks) that have caused an escalation. The IDF does not wish to disrupt the lives of the residents and does not plan to do so. However, due to the compromised security near ‘Azzun, the IDF is obliged to take all necessary measures to maintain security and safety. Closing off roads as a response to instance of throwing stones and Molotov cocktails or gunfire is unlawful and constitutes collective punishment of the residents of ‘Azzun and of nearby villages. Collective punishment is prohibited under Article 33 of the Fourth Geneva Convention, which states that persons must not be punished for offenses that they did not commit. The military’s argument that this is an exceptional situation that obliges it – against its wishes – to restrict residents’ freedom of movement is baseless. First, blocking traffic has nothing to do with preventing gunfire or the throwing of stones and Molotov cocktails; it is designed to pressure residents into taking action within the community to stop these incidents. Second, these restrictions are far from unusual, as the military has been employing them for many years throughout the West Bank as part of its declared policy.

22 February 2017