U.S., Iraq Conflict: Bethlehem Worries That Israel May Impose Curfew

October 24, 2002
by Alexa Smith

BETHLEHEM, West Bank – "Of course," the woman said, "all of us here, we are very afraid."

She was standing in Manger Square, a few yards from the Church of the Nativity, talking in heavily accented English about life in Bethlehem last year, during the Israeli military crackdown, when Palestinians lived under virtual house arrest for months on end. Bethlehem became a prison when the Israeli army tightened up the checkpoint at the northern edge of town, closing off the road to Jerusalem.

Life was already plenty tough because of the Intifada, but it got tougher about a year ago when Israeli military units undertook a series of incursions into West Bank towns in pursuit of Palestinian gunmen, or suspected gunmen. "Operation Defensive Shield" got under way around the time of the United States' declaration of war on terrorism, when air strikes began in Afghanistan.

The Bethlehem curfew wasn't lifted until just two months ago. Everyone expects that it will be re-imposed if the United States attacks Iraq. During the Gulf War, Palestinians lived under 45 days of continuous curfew – which amounts to house arrest for the entire population, with brief, intermittent and irregular breaks for food shopping and other necessities.

"Our situation is very hard," said the woman in Manger Square, who asked that her name not be used. "First, there was no work. Before the Intifada, there was money; now there is none. And there are children to feed. And school to pay for. And clothes to buy. ... Life here is a hard thing to face every day. Curfews. Closures.

"We've gotten used to closing, closing, closing, closing." The 45-year-old Christian woman is representative of all her neighbors. If you ask any ordinary man or woman on the street, "How are you?," the reply is either "Worried" or "Scared."

Worried about Iraq. Scared of another curfew. Fretting about the future.

It's a cultural mantra.

Fr. Sinorino Lubetke, a Franciscan priest who says Mass at the Church of the Nativity, said there is lots to worry about. He came to Bethlehem in 1988 from Poland, and saw was happened to the Palestinians during the Gulf War curfew. He said his parishioners see no end to the trouble, and struggle against despair.

Neither, frankly, does he.

"How do you preach hope?" he demands. "We at the monastery, at the convent, we don't see any solution. ... We see every day the situation growing worse and worse." Lubetke and his fellow Franciscans help families that need money for food, but they know that's a short-term solution.

The people of Bethlehem feel that they have a personal stake in the seemingly imminent war against Iraq. They fear the economic repercussions in an economy already nearly bankrupt should the war destabilize the entire Middle East. They also remember that, during the Gulf War, the Iraqis responded to U.S. air strikes by launching missles at Israeli targets.

"Danger for Israel means danger for the Palestinian people, too," one man pointed out. It also keeps fresh the old antagonism between the Arab world and the Israelis, which in the past year has caused the deaths of nearly 2,000 people – most of them civilians on both sides o the conflict. The clear majority of the dead, however, are Palestinian civilians. The violence has had a profound impact on Bethlehem.

A pharmacist on Nativity Street said he used to get three shipments of prescription drugs every week, but now gets one a week, sometimes one every other week. His customers cannot afford their medications, so they ask him for half-orders, or for loans. Meanwhile, he has to buy more at once to compensate for the infrequent deliveries, which don't always get past the Israeli checkpoints. Curfews and roadblocks in other towns – such as Nablus, which has been under continuous curfew for four months – create further problems. "Here in Bethlehem, we can't survive by ourselves," he said.

Lany Nayef Ali, a grocer whose store is nearby, has similar problems. He usually can get what he needs, but not necessarily when he wants it. "Whenever the Israelis want to close down the Palestinian economy, they can close it completely," he said. There is plenty of food in the stores, Fr. Lubetke said, but families have no money to spend for it. "Spiritual needs are important," he said, "but I'd have to say that the first need now for people in Bethlehem is money, to pay the bills, the electricity, the water, for food."

Sandra Olewine, a United Methodist mission worker in Bethlehem, said many Palestinians are worried that, if the United States attacks Iraq, it will monopolize the world's attention, and the Israeli army will have even more freedom to do what it wishes on the West Bank. It was during last year's air strikes on Afghanistan that life got worse in the occupied territories. "Who knows if those things are tied together?" Olewine asked. "But it happened last time, and it is not an unreasonable concern." She said Operation Defensive Shield brought "more land confiscations, more house demolitions and more attacks on (refugee) camps."

"This has been an unbelievable year," Olewine added. "Everyone says it is worse than 1948, worse than 1967. The amount of violence (has been) incredible." The missionary pointed out that the city is still encircled by Israeli tanks.

"The West Bank is basically a small prison," she said. "Every place is becoming like Gaza, which we've always said is the world's largest prison."

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