La Via Campesina Delegation Visited Palestine in December 2024: Notes from their Daily Diaries [Part – 8]

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 9 – Ramallah

Morgan

Monday morning, back in Ramallah, we go to meet a feminist organisation, WCLAC, and an organisation for promotion of democracy, MIFTAH. The President of MIFTAH, Tahrir, receives us around a large table. She introduces herself by explaining that her name means ‘liberation’, and that MIFTAH was created in 1998, to promote good governance, democracy, social justice, and gender equality. Over the years, the activists have done great work around electoral processes, particularly in 2006, to ensure a high level of participation among women. She tells us that in 2022, elections were planned, but they were cancelled under the pretext that the Palestinians in Jerusalem would not have been able to participate due to opposition from Israel. According to her, the real reason was that Fatah feared a heavy electoral defeat, as many Palestinians are sick of the Palestinian Authority failing to protect them from settlers and the Israeli army.

Now faced with the genocide in Gaza, the activists in the association have started to focus on violence committed against Palestinian women in the context of the war and the occupation. MIFTAH and WCLAC collect women’s testimonies of how they manage to survive despite forced displacements, the lack of food, constant bombardment, and the destruction of health infrastructure. The two associations have made short documentary videos about women in Gaza and the West Bank, which you can watch here and here.

There is a large screen on the wall of the meeting room. An activist from WCLAC shows us videos, especially focusing on female journalists in Gaza (more than 26 have been killed since October 2023, out of a total of 196 journalists killed) and on the use of sexual violence against the Palestinians as a weapon of war. The images are unbearable. Tahrir explains that this sexual violence is not the result of a few twisted soldiers, but rather a deliberate policy attempting to break the Palestinian people by humiliating women. “For them, it is a way of showing that they control everything, our homes, our families, our bodies. It is a way of destroying us on the inside, and breaking us mentally.”

MIFTAH collects the testimonies of women who have suffered this violence. It is difficult to convince women to talk, as they are often ashamed of what they have gone through, and they think that the Israeli soldiers will never be punished for their crimes, so what good does it do to talk. According to Tahrir, the scale of the violence goes far beyond what the association has managed to document. Texts of testimonies appear on the screen, on a black background. “There was an Israeli raid on our house. The soldiers told the men in our family to beat us, and that if they refused, they would beat them to death. Then we were stripped and we had to walk naked in front of the men. Then they took the women to another room in the house and they made noises as if they were raping us; the female soldiers imitated the screams. The soldiers treated us like whores.”

MIFTAH also works on the conditions of detention for Palestinian prisoners, who suffer sexist insults, who cannot access the most basic facilities for washing or obtain sanitary products to handle their periods, and who are sometimes raped. They have also documented the violence against women when they pass through checkpoints, particularly many incidences of touching during body searches.

Testimony by R.M. From Hebron: “I was trying to go through the door to leave the checkpoint. The soldier shouted at me in Arabic, “Come and look at this!” I looked at the soldier, who was standing just under the stairs, in a place where the cameras do not film. He dropped his trousers, pulled out his penis, and held it in his hand, saying “What do you think? Do you want something like that? Come over here.”

This regular mistreatment has a damaging indirect effect on girls and young women, as their parents are worried about them, and sometimes refuse to let them out, take them out of school early, or try to marry them off young, before they are raped. The day-to-day tensions, the lack of prospects for the future, and the cramped living conditions also have an effect on domestic violence, and once again, women are the ones who suffer from this most.

Tahrir finishes speaking and asks us if we have any questions or comments. We all remain silent, crushed by what we have heard. Tahrir suggests that we have a break. I go out onto the terrace to get some air. Carlos joins me, and he is in tears.

A few minutes later, the small cups of coffee are handed round, and discussions start again. Sana, a different Sana to the young woman who has accompanied us from the start, tells us about her day-to-day experiences. She has a son who has been in prison for five years. Since October 2023, she has not had the right to visit him, and she has not received any news. She is very worried, as conditions in detention were already very harsh before this: There were no mattresses for all the detainees, showers were rare, the food was insufficient and sometimes rotten, and medical care was non-existent. Before, once a month, the Red Cross would organise transport for the families, in fact just the women, so they could visit the prisoners. You had to get up early, as the departure was at 5 in the morning. The journey was punctuated by stops at checkpoints with endless searches. The women arrived at the prison at about 8 o’clock. There, they were searched again in full, and the female Israeli soldiers often acted inappropriately.

The visit itself only lasted 45 minutes, separated by glass with a telephone to speak through: she could not even hug her child… Sometimes, when they arrived, the prison authorities said that the visits had been cancelled and they would have to come back another time. It took hours to travel back as well. The women were also responsible for finding clothes for the prisoners, to meet the complex and changing criteria: no laces, not such and such a colour, no zips… Some families were punished a second time by having their house destroyed: more than 500 houses have been destroyed in the West Bank in recent years in connection with imprisonment of a family member. Despite her modest way of expressing herself, Sana’s testimony shows us that Palestinian women carry a heavy burden: they must make visits, earn money to support the home while the men are in prison, pay for a lawyer, continue to ensure their other children get an education, spend hours at administrative meetings to try to make a medical appointment for family members…

Tahrir speaks again. She is sorry that most European feminist organisations have refused to denounce the genocide, and claim to take a ‘neutral’ stance between Israel and Palestine. She tells us that her association aims to reorient its alliances towards movements from the Global South, which better understand and share the realities of racist and colonial oppression. Palestinian activists are sick of European feminists only wanting to work with ‘perfect victims’. She explains that “They say you have to fight against the male chauvinism of Arab men, but not say anything about what the situation of occupation and apartheid does to us as women. We do not deny that there is sexist or violent behaviour among Palestinian men, like everywhere, but if only we just had that problem to deal with! European funders impose restrictions as a condition for their continued support: We should not say anything bad about the Israeli soldiers and settlers, we should stop talking about Palestinian prisoners, we should condemn the armed resistance, we should express our faith in the Oslo Accords, we should focus all our activities on domestic violence, and we should not talk about the right of return for refugees. We don’t want to conform with what the Europeans want any more.”

Tahrir is preparing for a trip to Brazil in early 2025. She tells me of her admiration for the Landless Movement (MST), which is also part of La Via Campesina. I promise to send her some contacts.

We say goodbye. We go out in silence, and on the bus back to the UAWC offices, the atmosphere is heavy.

Fanny

After a morning that weighs heavily on us, we go to see the Alyaas cooperative in Safa, a village not far from Ramallah. This is the village where Sana lives, and she is happy to take us there.

When we arrive it is sunny among the large greenhouses and cultivated terraces where they grow vegetables. Adham and Malek welcome us. They are part of this collective, made up of young people who have chosen to return to the land. There are 8 permanent members, but for now, only Adham works there full-time. They hope that soon they will be able to generate two salaries. They started while some of them were still students.

Safa is not a “farming” village, and it was a real challenge to get set up here. The first stage was to find free land to start planting cereals and legumes. A feminist collective already established in the village helped them. The lands used were made available for free by the villagers. Old people there gave them seeds, and lots of people were involved in helping them get started; they got a lot of support from the locals.

NGOs helped them to get greenhouses and irrigation material to grow their plants and legumes. All production is organic, and these young people read widely and passionately to find out about all the techniques and peasant knowledge regarding the soil and plants. They attempt to reduce costs as far as possible and they produce their natural pesticides and fertilisers themselves. They make sure that they produce on a small scale, but with great diversity. They offer a full box of produce a week to families in Safa and Ramallah; they have set up a WhatsApp group for orders and deliveries.

They do their best to offer a fair price, so that their boxes of produce are as accessible as possible for families who cannot afford to pay more. Their produce often costs less than you would pay at the market.

They have a very close relationship with the consumers, and they have managed to build a large community with volunteers who come over the weekend to lend a hand, share experiences, and get training. These are precious, intergenerational moments, where they discuss politics, philosophy, and everything else. They have used the opportunity to set up a reading and philosophy club. The choice of the name, Alyaas, meaning “the land of despair”, makes sense when you find out that it comes from a poem by Nietzsche.

They had worked hard to restore plots of land to plant fruit trees there, but after 7th October the site became too dangerous. They had to start again elsewhere.

Few young people are motivated to work in agriculture, because many of them think that it is too much work for a derisory income. However, for the members of the cooperative, on the contrary, it is something they need to do, to develop some autonomy and face the Israeli occupation and the unemployment caused by the war. Despite the challenges of gaining access to land and water, and the grabbing of resources by the settlements, they remain motivated and full of ambition. It is wonderful to see. The last visit of our time here, particularly after this testing morning, offers plenty of fresh hope.

In the middle of a discussion, we hear explosions in the distance. I raise my head, but the Palestinian comrades continue as if it was nothing. I ask “What is that noise?”  And, in a matter-of-fact way, they tell me that these are missiles fired from Yemen at Tel Aviv, which is a few tens of kilometres away. These missiles are stopped by Israel’s famous Iron Dome. Aghsan adds “Often they fire missiles back at us in the West Bank.” And they continue with their conversation, unperturbed. This seems to be such an integral part of their daily life, while for me it is so shocking.

We get up from the dry stone wall that we were sitting on to do a tour of the greenhouses. The sun is low on the horizon, casting a warm light over the tarpaulins, and all seems well.

Morgan gently teases them because, like all young market gardeners, they make mistakes. The spinach has not been thinned, and there are lots of gaps in the row; the drip-feed hose must have a lot of blocked openings. The beans are trained all the way up and you would need a stepladder to harvest them… But these people are such a joy to see, they are completely dedicated to their compost which ferments and stinks like it should, to the fruit trees which they have planted on the embankments so as not to waste a single square meter, with the containers which collect the rainwater that runs off from the greenhouses… We feel like we are among young market gardeners from the Confédération Paysanne, we are among family!

Before returning to town, Sana really wants us to pay her a visit at her aunt’s house, where she lives, now that her parents have emigrated to Dubai.

We arrange some chairs in a circle in the courtyard, among the fruit and olive trees. Sana brings us a large chocolate cake that she prepared the night before. We also stopped on the way to pick up some Palestinian pastries with pistachios. Once again, we have a great time. Once again, we are received like royalty.

I have had a special relationship with Sana right from the start, because she finished her studies in France last year and she speaks fluent French. We have spent hours sitting next to each other on the bus, chatting, laughing, and sharing. As my level of English makes it difficult for me to follow all the exchanges, she has allowed me to debrief, and better understand the situations, the context, and what is at stake. We have also talked a lot about our lives, and we have promised to meet up again very soon, when she comes back to France.

We can feel the end approaching, and for me, it is still very difficult to imagine leaving the people with whom I have spent precious and impactful moments, and who, in such a short space of time, have become people who “matter”.

For now, we savour every minute together, we laugh, we hold hands, and we call each other “habibi” or “habibti”. We imagine the future poster for “Fuad’s Angels”, with Sana, Tamam, and Aghsan as the super heroines that they are. Everyone is riffing on the joke in all different directions, and it is great fun.

When we get back to Ramallah, to celebrate the last evening in the apartment, we stop to buy some beer and wine. The shop we go to is the first place during our stay to remind us that Christmas is approaching, as there are decorations in the storefront. The woman who runs the shop is lovely. Among other things, she tells us about the exorbitant taxes demanded by Israel, and she wishes us “Merry Christmas” when we leave. Then, Ollie can’t resist buying a red and white Santa Claus hat and chanting “ho ho ho” as he gets back on the bus.

We go to UAWC to finish the final declaration by La Via Campesina; it’s hard work, but it needs to be done. Pier has prepared a proposal for us, which is a great basis for discussions.

Once we have finished the declaration, another cake, this time speculoos flavour, is placed on the table to celebrate Dora’s birthday. Does it never end?!

Now the goodbyes start. Dora, Malu, Ollie, Kelo, Pier and Elisa leave early tomorrow morning to return to the Jordanian border and take a flight from Amman.

They share warm greetings with Fuad, and praise him to the rafters. I feel touched. We go back to the apartment with the three angels.

We finish off the cake (there is so much of it!), we open a few bottles, some people start to pack their bags, others type up their last notes from today and to transfer the photos onto the UAWC computer. Before leaving Palestine, our phones have to be wiped.

As the internet is very slow, we start singing songs of love and revolution. Carlos starts and amazes us with a Portuguese love song, the comrades from the Iberian Peninsula continue with “l’Estaca” in Catalan, and we can all sing “Bella Ciao” together. We have a stab at “Dans les prisons de Nantes” with Morgan, Kélo moves us with a song in Castilian, which I don’t understand at all, but which touches my heart, and I launch into “Grand Jacques” and “la Quête” by Brel…

This is the last night of this improvised house-share, and I realise just how easy and pleasant it has been to share this incredible adventure every day with this joyful band, who I did not know 10 days ago. During sensitive and vulnerable moments, and cracking up with laughter together, during moments of fear, sadness, and rage, and often filled with gratitude and admiration for the people we have met. Our diversity has enabled us to navigate all these emotions, and share so much, with a spirit of straightforwardness and humility. Thank you for everything, friends!

This is our last night in Palestine. The voice of the muezzin will no longer lull me to sleep, and even if my heart is heavy at having to leave, I am eager to return to the calm of my mountains, far from the roar of the engines and the busy nights of Ramallah.

This post is also available in Español.