Miriam,
Pneumonia. There's a first time for everything, and this was my
first. I had a shot a couple of years ago, and thought it was to
prevent Pneumonia. But I think Cathy(the stuborn Italian) has been
dealing with the same thing. I finished the antibiotics yesterday,
and today I think I'm doing a bit better, energy wise.
We did see a client in Bremerton today, and when we returned home I
caught Cathy snoozing in the office...something she never does.
The weather here is so perfect that I am out of sorts over not having
the energy to come home and change into my work clothes and rush out
into the yard to do battle with the weeds. But now it's dinner time.
Carl Jarvis
On 5/15/18, Miriam Vieni <miriamvieni@xxxxxxxxxxxxx> wrote:
Pneumonia? My goodness! Hope you're feeling OK soon.
Miriam
-----Original Message-----
From: blind-democracy-bounce@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
<blind-democracy-bounce@xxxxxxxxxxxxx> On Behalf Of Carl Jarvis
Sent: Tuesday, May 15, 2018 11:15 AM
To: blind-democracy@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Subject: [blind-democracy] Re: Killing Gaza
Miriam,
Thanks for thinking of me. I only wish I had the time to listen to
everything that I save. I have been able to download a number of "second
interview" segments from democracy now, but lately there is just too many
other demands on our time. And in all of that, my "flu"
turned into pneumonia, and I have been slowly regaining my energy.
Carl Jarvis
On 5/14/18, Miriam Vieni <miriamvieni@xxxxxxxxxxxxx> wrote:
Carl,
Every bit of enlightenment tossed out into the world, is a good thing.
One thing that you would have enjoyed hearing is Part 2 of Amy
Goodman's interview with the former finance minister of Greece. I felt
like he was a breath of fresh air, especially with his comments about
the Democratic response to Trump and also, his answer when she asked
him to say what he thinks about Trump. He talked about the real
motives of many of the people who voted for Trump, and he said that
the election of Trump was a direct result of Obama's failure to meet
the needs of the people. He also told her that the US is an oligarchy,
a more successful one than Russia. I get these second parts of interviews
because they automatically download to my stream.
I could never find them on the Democracy Now website so I couldn't
listen to them before I got the stream. But perhaps your skill at
finding them is better than mine. I highly recommend that you listen
to this one if you can find it.
Miriam
-----Original Message-----
From: blind-democracy-bounce@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
<blind-democracy-bounce@xxxxxxxxxxxxx> On Behalf Of Carl Jarvis
Sent: Monday, May 14, 2018 4:33 PM
To: blind-democracy@xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Subject: [blind-democracy] Re: Killing Gaza
Once again, thanks. I can't say that I feel better reading Chris
Hedges, but I do feel connected to a kindred spirit. I pass the
Hedges articles to another list, because there are a couple of fellows
who blow snot out their ears when they read Hedges. Naturally they
declare it to be negative propaganda. But there are several on that
list who do feel that Hedges is truthful.
Carl Jarvis
On 5/14/18, Miriam Vieni <miriamvieni@xxxxxxxxxxxxx> wrote:
Killing Gaza
Mr. Fish / Truthdig
WASHINGTON, D.C.-Israel’s blockade of Gaza-where trapped Palestinians
for the past seven weeks have held nonviolent protests along the
border fence with Israel, resulting in more than 50 killed and 700
wounded by Israeli troops-is one of the world’s worst humanitarian
disasters. Yet the horror that is Gaza, where 2 million people live
under an Israeli siege without adequate food, housing, work, water
and electricity, where the Israeli military routinely uses
indiscriminate and disproportionate violence to wound and murder, and
where almost no one can escape, is rarely documented.
Max Blumenthal and Dan Cohen’s powerful new film, “Killing Gaza,”
offers an unflinching and moving portrait of a people largely
abandoned by the outside world, struggling to endure.
“Killing Gaza” will be released Tuesday, to coincide with what
Palestinians call Nakba Day-“nakba” means catastrophe in
Arabic-commemorating the 70th anniversary of the forced removal of
some 750,
000 Palestinians in 1948 by the Haganah, Jewish paramilitary forces,
from their homes in modern-day Israel. The release of the documentary
also coincides with the Trump administration’s opening of the new U.S.
Embassy in Jerusalem.
● Starting Tuesday, May 15, “Killing Gaza” can be seen at Vimeo On
Demand.
Because of Nakba Day and the anger over the transfer of the embassy
to Jerusalem, this week is expected to be one of the bloodiest of the
seven-week-long protest that Palestinians call the “Great Return March.”
“Killing Gaza” illustrates why Palestinians, with little left to
lose, are rising up by the thousands and risking their lives to
return to their ancestral homes-70 percent of those in Gaza are
refugees or the descendants of refugees-and be treated like human
beings.
Cohen and Blumenthal, who is the author of the book “Goliath: Life
and Loathing in Greater Israel,” one of the best accounts of modern
Israel, began filming the documentary Aug. 15, 2014. Palestinian
militias, armed with little more than light weapons, had just faced
Israeli tanks, artillery, fighter jets, infantry units and missiles
in a 51-day Israeli assault that left 2,314 Palestinians dead and
17,125 injured. Some 500,000 Palestinians were displaced and about
100,000 homes were destroyed. The
2014
assault, perhaps better described as a massacre, was one of eight
massacres that Israel has carried out since 2004 against the 2
million Palestinians in Gaza, over half of whom are children. Israel,
which refers to these periodic military assaults as “mowing the
lawn,” seeks to make existence in Gaza so difficult that mere
survival consumes most of the average Palestinian’s time, resources and
energy.
The film begins in the Shuja’iyya neighborhood, reduced to mounds of
rubble by the Israelis. The wanton destruction of whole neighborhoods
was, as documented by the film, accompanied by the shooting of
unarmed civilians by Israeli snipers and other soldiers of that nation.
“Much of the destruction took place in the course of a few hours on
July 23,” Blumenthal, who narrates the film, says as destroyed
buildings appear on the screen, block after block. “The invading
Israeli forces found themselves under ferocious fire from local
resistance forces, enduring unexpectedly high casualties. As the
Israeli infantry fled in full retreat, they called in an artillery
and air assault, killing at least 120 Palestinian civilians and
obliterated thousands of homes.”
The film includes a brief clip of young Israelis in Tel Aviv
celebrating the assault on Gaza, a reminder that toxic racism and
militarism infect Israeli society.
“Die! Die! Bye!” laughing teenage girls shout at the celebration in
Tel Aviv. “Bye, Palestine!”
“Fucking Arabs! Fuck Muhammad!” a young man yells.
“Gaza is a graveyard! Gaza is a graveyard! Ole, ole, ole, ole,” the
crowd in Tel Aviv sings as it dances in jubilation. “There is no
school tomorrow!
There are no children left in Gaza!”
Terrified Palestinian families huddled inside their homes during the
relentless shelling. Those who tried to escape in the face of the
advancing Israelis often were gunned down with their hands in the
air, and the bodies were left to rot in the scorching heat for days.
“I was inside when they started bulldozing my house,” Nasser Shamaly,
a Shuja’iyya resident, says in the film. “They took down the wall and
started shooting into the house. So I put my hands on my head and
surrendered myself to the officer. This wasn’t just any soldier. He
was the officer of the group! He didn’t say a word. He just shot me.
I fell down and started crawling to get away from them.”
Shamaly, who hid wounded in his house for four days, was fortunate.
His 23-year-old cousin, Salem Shamaly, who led a group of volunteers
from the International Solidarity Movement to dig bodies out of the
ruins in Shuja’
iyya, was not.
“On the offensive’s 14th day, July 20th, 2014, four other activists
and I went to the Shuja’iyya neighborhood, which Israel had bombed
for days, to accompany rescue teams in the rubble during the two-hour
cease-fire,” Joe Catron, one of the members of the International
Solidarity Movement rescue team, says in the film. “A young
Palestinian, whose name we later learned was Salem Shamaly, asked us
to go with him to his house, where he hoped to find his family. It
sounds ridiculous now, but at the time we thought the cease-fire
would make it safe.”
“As we crossed an alley with a clear line of sight to Israeli
positions by the separation barrier, a gunshot from their direction
struck the ground between us. We scattered into two groups, sheltered
behind buildings on either side. After a pause, Salem stepped into
the alley, hoping to lead his group to our side, but was struck by
another bullet. He fell to the ground.”
The film shows Shamaly wounded on the ground, barely able to move and
crying out in pain.
“As he lay on his back, two more rounds hit him,” Catron continued.
“He stopped moving. The gunfire kept us from reaching him. The
Israeli artillery began flying overhead and striking the buildings behind
us.
We were forced to retreat, leaving him. We only learned his name two
days later, when his mother, father, sister and cousin recognized him
in a video I had tweeted.”
“We couldn’t retrieve his body for seven days,” Um Salem, the mother,
says in the film. “His body was in the sun for seven days.”
Waseem Shamaly, Salem’s brother, who appears to be about 8 years old,
is shown with his eyes swollen from crying. “He would take care of
us, like our father,” the boy says. “Even at night, he would get us
whatever we wanted. He used to buy us everything. Whatever we wished
for, he would buy it. There was nothing he wouldn’t buy for us. He
used to take us to hang out. He’d take us out with him just to kill
our boredom a little.”
Waseem wipes his eyes.
“Now he is gone,” he continues weakly. “There is nobody to take us
out and buy us treats.”
“This boy hasn’t been able to handle losing his brother,” says the
father, Khalil Shamaly. “He couldn’t handle the news, seeing the way
his brother died. He is in shock. It gets to the point where he goes
lifeless.
He collapses. When I pick him up he tells me his dying wishes. His
dying wishes! As if he is leaving us. He is so young. But he gives us
his dying wishes. If it weren’t for God’s mercy, I would have lost
him too.”
“Destroyed cities and shattered homes can be rebuilt if the resources
are there,” Blumenthal says. “But what about the survivors? How can
they heal the scars imposed on their psyches? The youth of Gaza has
grown up through three wars, each more devastating than the last. At
least 90 percent of adolescents in Gaza suffer from post-traumatic
stress disorder. With mental health services pushed to the brink,
these unseen scars may never heal.”
The film turns to the town of Khuza’a, a farming community with
20,000 people, which was systematically blown up by Israel after
three Israeli soldiers were killed in fighting with the al-Qassam
Brigades, the armed wing of the ruling Hamas government in Gaza. The
film shows a video from inside an Israeli tank as soldiers wait for
explosives to bring down buildings in the town, including the mosque.
When the explosions occur, the Israeli soldiers cheer and shout,
“Long live the state of Israel!”
“We were shocked to see so many bodies in the streets,” Ahmed Awwad,
a volunteer with the Palestinian Red Crescent, says in the film about
Khuza’
a. “Many were decomposing. We wanted to deal with it, but we didn’t
know how. Once, when the Israelis let us in with our ambulance, we
found about
10
corpses from different areas, scattered. As you approached a body, of
course there is the odor, and there are worms. Hold it like this, and
flesh comes off. Lift an arm and it pulls right off. We didn’t know
what to do. There was nothing we could do. We had to stop. It would
have been easier just to bury them. But we figured families would
want the bodies. Bulldozers eventually loaded the bodies in trucks.
We couldn’t pick up these bodies on our own. Most were executions,
like an old lady at her front door. There was a young man, another
man, and a little kid. The scenes, to be honest, were very ugly.”
The Rjeila family, including 16-year-old Ghadeer, who was physically
disabled, attempts to escape the shelling. As a brother frantically
pushes Ghadeer in her wheelchair (the scene, like several others in
the film, is reconstructed through animation), the Israelis open fire.
The brother is wounded. Ghadeer is killed.
The camera pans slowly through demolished houses containing blackened
human remains. Walls and floors are smeared with blood.
Ahmed Awwad, a Palestinian Red Crescent volunteer, describes what
happened after he and other volunteers finally receive permission
from Israeli forces to retrieve bodies from Khuza’a. They find a man
tied to a tree and shot in both legs. One of the volunteers, Mohammed
al-Abadla, gets out of a vehicle and approaches the tree. When he
switches on his flashlight, which the Israelis had instructed him to
do, he is shot in heart and killed.
“For 51 days, Israel bombarded Gaza with the full might of its
artillery,”
Blumenthal says. “According to the Israeli military’s estimates,
23,410 artillery shells and 2.9 million bullets were fired into Gaza
during the war.”
That’s one and a half bullets for every man, woman and child in the
Gaza Strip.
There is footage of Israeli soldiers in an artillery unit writing
messages, including “Happy Birthday to Me,” on shells being lobbed
into Gaza. The soldiers laugh and eat sushi as they pound Palestinian
neighborhoods with explosives.
Rafah is a city in Gaza on the border of Egypt. The film makes it
clear that Egypt, through its sealing of Gaza’s southern border, is
complicit in the blockade. Rafah was one of the first cities targeted
by the Israelis. When Israeli troops took over buildings, they also
kidnapped Palestinians and used them as human shields there and
elsewhere, forcing them to stand at windows as the soldiers fired
from behind.
“They blindfolded and handcuffed me and took me inside,” Mahmoud Abu
Said says in the film. “They told me to come with them and put a M16
to my back.
There were maybe six of them. They dropped their equipment and began
searching. They started hitting me against the wall. And then sicced
their dogs on me while I was handcuffed.”
“They put me here,” he says, standing in front of a window, “and
stood behind me. Israeli soldiers placed me here while they stood
behind me shooting. They took me to that window and that window too.
Then they hit me against the wall and pushed me down. They put a mattress
here,”
he says, showing holes punched through the wall at floor level, “and
sat down to shoot through these holes.”
“You see that car?” asks Suleiman Zghreibv, referring to a hunk of
twisted metal that lies next to the ruins of his house. “He drove it,”
he says of his 22-year-old son, who was executed by the Israelis.
“This is the car we used to make our living. It wasn’t for personal use.
It was a taxi. I can’
t describe the suffering. What can I say? Words can’t express the
pain. We have suffered and resisted for so long. We’ve been suffering
our whole lives. We’ve suffered for the past 60 years because of
Israel. War after war after war. Bombing after bombing after bombing.
You build a house. They destroy it. You raise a child. They kill him.
Whatever they do-the United States, Israel, the whole world, we’ll
keep resisting until the last one of us dies.”
Israel intentionally targeted power plants, schools, medical clinics,
apartment complexes, whole villages. Robert Piper, the United Nations
Coordinator for Humanitarian Aid and Development Activities, said in
2017 that Gaza had “a long time ago” passed the “unlivability
threshold.”
Youth unemployment is at 60 percent. Suicide is epidemic. Traditional
social structures and mores are fracturing, with divorce rising from
2 percent to
40 percent and girls and women increasingly being prostituted,
something once seen only rarely in Gaza. Seventy percent of the 2
million Gazans survive on humanitarian aid packages of sugar, rice,
milk and cooking oil.
The U.N. estimates that 97 percent of Gaza’s water is contaminated.
Israel’s destruction of Gaza’s sewage treatment plant means raw
sewage is pumped into the sea, contaminating the beach, one of the
very few respites for a trapped population. The Israelis did not even
spare Gaza’s little zoo, slaughtering some 45 animals in the 2014
assault.
“I liked the monkeys best,” says a forlorn Ali Qasem, who worked at
the zoo. “We laughed with them the most. We would laugh and play with
them.
They would take food right from your hand. They’d respond the most.
There is a heavy feeling of sorrow. I used to spend 18 hours a day
here. I was here all the time. I’d go home for five or six hours,
then come back. I worked here as a volunteer. A few volunteers built
this place little by little. We were excited to finish and invite
visitors for free. To me, it was like humans were killed. It’s not OK
because they were animals. It’s as if they were human beings, people we
know.
We used to bring them food from our homes.”
The film shows Palestinians, who have received little reconstruction
aid despite pledges by international donors, camping out amid the
ruins of homes, gathered around small fires for heat and light. Moeen
Abu Kheysi, 54, gives a tour of the smashed house he had spent his
life constructing for his family. He stops when he comes upon his
3-month-old grandson, Wadie. His face lights up in delight.
“Months passed and the cold rains of winter gave way to baking heat
of spring,” Blumenthal says. “In Shuja’iyya, the Abu Kheysi family
was still living in remnants of their home, but without their newest
member. Born during the war, little Wadie did not make it through the
harsh winter.”
“He was born during the war and he died during the war, well after
the war,” a female member of the family explains. “He lived in a room
without a wall. We covered the wall with tin sheets. We moved, but
then we got kicked out. We couldn’t make rent. [We] had to come back,
cover the wall and live here. Then the baby froze to death. It was
very cold.”
“One day it suddenly became very cold,” Wadie’s mother says. “Wadie
woke up at 9 in the morning. I started playing with him, gave him a
bottle.
Suddenly, he was shivering from the cold. I tried to warm him up but
it wasn’t working.”
She begins to weep.
“There wasn’t even time to get to the hospital,” she says. “He
stopped breathing before they left the house. His heart stopped
beating instantly.
His father started running in the street with him. He fainted when
they yelled, “The baby is dead!” The baby’s uncle took over and
carried him.
He looked everywhere for a taxi but couldn’t find one. We couldn’t
give him first aid ourselves. They finally found a car. They did all
they could at the hospital, but he never woke up. He was dead. What
can I say? We remember him all the time. I can’t get him off my mind.
It’s as if I lost a piece of my heart. His sisters want to sleep in
his cradle and wear his clothes. This one always asks to wear her
brother’s clothes. We can’t forget him.”
“Grandpa!” Wadie’s small sister cries out. “Mama is crying again.”
Chris Hedges
Chris Hedges is a Pulitzer Prize-winning
