Masked in Gaza:
The Untold History of Palestinian ‘Militancy’
by Ramzy Baroud l PalestineChronicle.com
Essam Al-Batsh and his nephew, Sobhi Al-Batsh, are the
latest in a long line of reported Palestinian ‘militants’ killed by Israel. They
were
both targeted while driving in a car in downtown Gaza
on December 8. According to an Israeli army statement, “(They) were affiliated
with a terrorist squad that intended to attack Israeli civilians and soldiers
via the western border” (Reuters, December 8).
Another ‘militant’ had been killed two days earlier. Israeli
military aircraft “had targeted two militant squads that were preparing to fire
rockets into southern Israel,”
according to the Associated Press. AP quoted Israeli official saying the army
would “continue to take action against those (who) use terror against the state
of Israel.”
It really doesn’t take much to kill a ‘militant’ in Gaza.
Israeli military intelligence officers simply select a weapon and zoom in on
their chosen person on any given day. This is not a difficult task really since
the entire population of the Strip are besieged in Gaza’s
open air prison.
The same statement issued regarding the assassinated
‘militant’ can then be easily rewritten, using the same predictable
justifications.
Israel’s
excuses actually tell nothing of the history behind the phenomena of
‘militancy’. To know why some young men in Gaza
decide to mask their faces and carry arms, they need to abandon the media’s
reductionist characterization of Gaza’s
armed struggle. This goes back much earlier than Hamas and Fatah, the 2006
elections, the 2007 siege or the 2008-09 war.
The phenomenon began shortly after the Nakba – The
Palestinian ‘Catastrophe’ in 1948, which saw the destruction of Palestine
and the erection of today’s Israel.
During this time nearly a quarter a million were evicted or forced to flee to Gaza.
A displaced population then yearned to go home, and many wished to recover the
lifesavings they had buried under patches of earth in their Palestinian
villages. Some wanted to harvest their crops, and others sought family members
that had gone missing during the forced march out of Palestine.
Once they crossed into newly established Israel,
many refugees never returned. But the boldness of the ‘fedayeen’ – freedom
fighters – now began to grow rapidly.
The refugees eventually began organizing themselves, with or
without help from the Egyptian army, which was still stationed at the outskirts
of Gaza and the southern borders of
the Sinai desert. Groups quickly assumed names and became factions, and their
members acquired military fatigues. The fighters used kuffiyehs – traditional
headscarves – to cover their faces to escape the watchful eyes of Israeli
collaborators, who were also growing in number.
Over time, Palestinian guerrilla commandos began carrying
out daring strikes deep inside Israel.
The fedayeen were mostly young Palestinian refugees. Their operations grew
bolder by the day, as they snuck into Israel,
like ghosts in the night, with primitive weapons and homemade bombs. They would
target Israeli soldiers, steal their weapons and return with the new weapons
the second night. Some would sneak back into their villages in Palestine;
they would ‘steal’ blankets and whatever money they had saved but failed to
retrieve in the rush of war. Those who never returned received the funerals of
‘Martyrs’. Following every fedayeen operation, the Israeli army would strike Gaza’s
refugees, inspiring yet more support and recruits for the young, but growing
commando movement.
The phenomenon quickly registered among Palestinian youth in
Gaza - not due to any inexplicable
desire for violence, but because they saw in the fedayeen a heroic escape from their
own humiliating lives. Indeed, the fedayeen movement was the antithesis of the
perceived submissiveness experienced by refugees. It was a manifestation of all
the anger and frustration they felt. They simply wanted to go home, and
freedom-fighting seemed the only practical way of fulfilling this wish.
As refugees stayed put in their tents, and as more
Palestinians were killed by Israeli military incursions and snipers, the
numbers of fedayeen multiplied. In a historic visit to Gaza
in 1955, then Egyptian leader Gamal Abdel Nasser promised to fight on until all
of Palestine was liberated. Soon
after, amid angry demands for action, Egypt
decided to establish ten battalions of the National Guard, which were made up
mostly of Palestinian fedayeen and led by Egyptian officers. It signaled an
Egyptian attempt to take charge of the situation and control the scattered
Palestinian leaderships and its armed factions. Cross-border skirmishes
culminated, at times, into full-blown border battles. Israeli mortar attacks
reached many areas in Gaza. There
was no safe place to hide.
The factions changed names. The fedayeen wore different
colored kuffiyehs. But in essence, little changed. Poverty persisted. Human
rights continued to be routinely violated. Not a single refugee returned home.
And three, if not four generations of fedayeen, carried on with the fight.
In some way, the media perception of these masked men also
remained largely unchanged. The ‘militant’ has always been reported as an
inexplicable irritant. At best, he served as a reminder, not of a poignant
history that must be unearthed and understood, but of why Israel
is, and will always remain, threatened by masked Palestinians. When a so-called
‘militant’ is brutally killed, little justification is offered. If any
‘militants’ respond to the killing, such retorts could possibly serve as a
casus belli for an already planned Israeli military escalation.
It is important that we understand that ‘militancy’ in Gaza
is not linked to any Palestinian faction per se, nor is it incited by a
specific ideology or individual. The phenomenon had indeed preceded all the
factions and individuals that dot Gaza’s
political landscape. It was caused by the single event of the Nakba, and all
the tragedies that manifested as a result of it.
Chances are, the ‘militants’ – or fedayeen, or even
‘terrorists’ by the standards of Israel and its supporters – will continue to
exist as long as the conflict remains unsolved per the necessary standards of
justice and fairness.
As for the media, it behooves reporters to dig a bit deeper
than an image of the charred remains of an uncle and his nephew - and to see
beyond the predictably false accusations that underlie official Israeli
statements.
Ramzy Baroud
(www.ramzybaroud.net) is an internationally-syndicated columnist and the editor
of PalestineChronicle.com. His latest book is My Father Was a Freedom Fighter: Gaza's Untold Story (Pluto Press, London).