Sep 2010
In this issue:
Features
Break for the border
Gaza Journalist Ameera Ahmad related her experience of the day Gaza’s wall came down
Issue: Nov, 2009
For the besieged people of Gaza, it was their Berlin Wall moment. In January 2008, after months of an economic blockade imposed by Israel, supported by America and exacerbated by Egypt, the huge steel barricades separating the Palestinians from the towns of Sinai were breached and a captive population were all-too-briefly able to savour the taste of freedom. Millions streamed through a hole that had been blasted by militants at 3am on the morning of the 23rd and then widened by a lone bulldozer, flocking to Egypt to buy cheap gas, clothes, cigarettes and, above all, food. One of those present was Ameera Ahmad, a local journalist, whose memories are laced with resignation as she contends with Gaza’s return to its status as world’s biggest prison – indeed, she couldn’t even e-mail this piece through, relying instead on a fickle phone line to tell her story.
We knew something like this was being planned. The blockade of Gaza had been going on for months and everyone was running out of basic supplies like food and clothing. Everything inside Gaza was becoming very expensive, so we knew that there was a plan to breach the wall – some said it was ordinary people doing it, while others believed it was Hamas, trying to live up to their promise to look after the people. We heard the explosion at 3am and woke up to find people streaming out of Gaza into Egypt, and conversely, Egyptians streaming into Gaza – most of the arrivals coming with goods to sell to people with shekels, not the undervalued Egyptian pound.
It was a very exciting time, we were all very happy and relieved to be able to leave Gaza – which was a new sensation for many of us. We all thought, “At last we can go out, we can go to Egypt!” I hadn’t actually left the strip for nearly six years before then; the last time was with my mother for a hospital visit in 2002, and it felt incredible – we just wanted to get in a car and drive and drive!
No one was thinking about what might happen later, whether Israeli or Egyptian troops would come. We were just so happy. Obviously, we would have liked this to have been done legally, with the acceptance of Egypt, but at the time this really felt like the only solution: we needed to end the siege. Everyone in Gaza holds the Egyptians responsible for this situation, perhaps more than the Israelis – the Egyptians are our brothers, and they can end the blockade so easily. But they chose to listen only to the Israelis and help keep us in this desperate situation. We aren’t just prisoners of Israel, we’re prisoners of Egypt, too.
The crossing was packed day and night, with cars, carts and people streaming through – without the need for papers or visas or checkpoints. It was a chance to bring in proper fuel for our cars, and not use cooking oil, and buy cheap cigarettes and the like. Also, we saw officials taking scrap metal to be melted down and reused. It was surprising how many Egyptians were in Gaza, too. They came from all over Egypt with goods to sell, which would fetch better prices in Gaza and you could see them in their traditional robes setting up stalls in Gaza City’s main market. In fact, a lot stayed even when the wall was sealed again, and I know one who is still here – he says he doesn’t want to go back!
This was about more than just goods and produce, though. This was about freedom, and many Palestinians went for picnics simply to leave Gaza, while for others it was an opportunity to be reunited with their families. Not only is the town of Rafah divided by the wall, separating many families, but many Fatah supporters had fled Gaza during the previous summer’s tensions, and this was the first time they had been able to see their families, their homes and their friends. It was an incredible scene of happiness – with very human stories all around us.
We all wished it could have gone on forever. The optimism and the joy was infectious, but we realised after a day or two that the soldiers would come back, that we would wake up to find ourselves back in the same prison – for no reason. I was doing some work for The Guardian newspaper on that day, and we managed to reach the town of Sheikh Zayed on the outskirts of Cairo, but we were soon stopped by Egyptian security forces and forced to go back to the border. I think it was at that point that we knew this was only going to be a brief period of freedom.
Every Gazan knows deep down that there is no end to this situation. We think in terms of 50 years, 60 or even 100. The wall will stay while the rest of the world dances to Israel’s tune. And we’ve even now heard that the Egyptians will close all of the tunnels to Gaza to punish Hamas for their failure to reach an agreement with Fatah. And once again the people who suffer are ordinary Palestinians.
