permaculture

["Lawrence F. London, Jr." <lflj@intrex.net>]

SANET-MG Archives -- January 2009 (#78)
http://lists.ifas.ufl.edu/cgi-bin/wa.exe?A2=ind0901&L=sanet-mg&T=0&O=D&P=55119
Subject: gaza and use of food for collective punishment
From:   Hector Valenzuela <[log in to unmask]>
Reply-To: Sustainable Agriculture Network Discussion Group <[log in to unmask]>, 
Hector Valenzuela <[log in to unmask]>
Date:   Sat, 17 Jan 2009 19:42:41 -1000

Hi all-

RE: Gaza violence and the use of food as a weapon

The silence in the media and from our political leaders on the destruction and casualties in Gaza is deafening. The 
overwhelming violence on a defenseless population itself is unrelated to agriculture. However, we should recognize that 
this was started, in part, because of a months long blockade that prevented the entry of food, fuel and other vital 
supplies into Gaza.

The collective punishment of a civilian population that lives under an illegal blockade, military control and occupation 
is illegal according to the Geneva convention.

Unfortunately, Israel-- basically our client in the Middle East-- is not alone, nor the first in the use of food to 
punish civilian populations.

By chance, this morning I was reading a RAND report on the "Crop Destruction Programs", used by the US military in 
Vietnam, to punish the civilian population for its support of a resistance movement that was fighting an illegal 
occupation. For 1966 the US Air Force reported 281 sorties as part of this program. The RAND study indicates that the 
spraying didn't really affect the armed resistance, but that instead it affected mostly the civilian population. 
According to this report:

Average number of Hectares destroyed per sortie= 125 (i.e 250 acres)
No. of people affected 325,000 (according to authors this value is an "educated guess".) However, probably a "low 
estimate". The authors add "The order of magnitude, hundreds of thousands, is undoubtedly correct."

Also from the report:

amount of rice destroyed 1966: 56,000 metric tons

The report indicates that "Roughly 535 people are affected for every ton of rice 
denied the Viet Cong" (pg. 23)

Reference:
RAND. Memorandum RM-5450-1-ISA/ARPA. October 1967 Author: Anthony J. Russo
Title: A statistical analysis of the US crop spraying program in South 
Vietnam.

A separate report from RAND reviewed another program-- the use of the 
herbicide agent orange, which was used as a defoliant:

""Fear of chemical spray continued to be widespread, according to the interviews. This fear was reinforced by Viet cong 
propaganda, which stressed the alleged toxic nature of the spray, and by instructions to the troops on protective 
measures and the treatment of persons exposed to the spray. Generally, VC propaganda continued to give the impression 
that the Americans were making extensive use of chemical warfare." pg. 7

Vietnam and the Middle East are totally unrelated. But the silence in our society, as these developments unfolded, are 
very difficult to ignore.

Aloha  & peace,

Hector

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Counterpunch
January 16-17, 2009

Weekend Edition
January 16-18, 2009
A Report From Gaza
Terribly Bloodied, Still Breathing

By CAOIMHE BUTTERLY

Gaza

The morgues of Gaza's hospitals are over-flowing. The bodies in their blood-soaked white shrouds cover the entire floor 
space of the Shifa hospital morgue. Some are intact, most horribly deformed, limbs twisted into unnatural positions, 
chest cavities exposed, heads blown off, skulls crushed in. Family members wait outside to identify and claim a brother, 
husband, father, mother, wife, child. Many of those who wait their turn have lost numerous family members and loved ones.

Blood is everywhere. Hospital orderlies hose down the floors of operating rooms, bloodied bandages lie discarded in 
corners, and the injured continue to pour in: bodies lacerated by shrapnel, burns, bullet wounds. Medical workers, 
exhausted and under siege, work day and night and each life saved is seen as a victory over the predominance of death.

The streets of Gaza are eerily silent- the pulsing life and rhythm of markets, children, fishermen walking down to the 
sea at dawn brutally stilled and replaced by an atmosphere of uncertainty, isolation and fear. The ever-present sounds 
of surveillance drones, F16s, tanks and Apaches are listened to acutely as residents try to guess where the next deadly 
strike will be- which house, school, clinic, mosque, governmental building or community centre will be hit next and how 
to move before it does. That there are no safe places- no refuge for vulnerable human bodies- is felt acutely. It is a 
devastating awareness for parents- that there is no way to keep their children safe.

As we continue to accompany the ambulances, joining Palestinian paramedics as they risk their lives, daily, to respond 
to calls from those with no other life-line, our existence becomes temporarily narrowed down and focused on the few 
precious minutes that make the difference between life and death. With each new call received as we ride in ambulances 
that careen down broken, silent roads, sirens and lights blaring, there exists a battle of life over death. We have 
learned the language of the war that the Israelis are waging on the collective captive population of Gaza- to 
distinguish between the sounds of the weaponry used, the timing between the first missile strikes and the inevitable 
second- targeting those that rush to tend to and evacuate the wounded, to recognize the signs of the different chemical 
weapons being used in this onslaught, to overcome the initial vulnerability of recognizing our own mortality.

Though many of the calls received are to pick up bodies, not the wounded, the necessity of affording the dead a 
dignified burial drives the paramedics to face the deliberate targeting of their colleagues and comrades- thirteen 
killed while evacuating the wounded, fourteen ambulances destroyed- and to continue to search for the shattered bodies 
of the dead to bring home to their families.

Last night, while sitting with paramedics in Jabaliya refugee camp, drinking tea and listening to their stories, we 
received a call to respond to the aftermath of a missile strike. When we arrived at the outskirts of the camp where the 
attack had taken place the area was filled with clouds of dust, torn electricity lines, slabs of concrete and open water 
pipes gushing water into the street. Amongst the carnage of severed limbs and blood we pulled out the body of a young 
man, his chest and face lacerated by shrapnel wounds, but alive- conscious and moaning.

As the ambulance sped him through the cold night we applied pressure to his wounds, the warmth of his blood seeping 
through the bandages reminder of the life still in him. He opened his eyes in answer to my questions and closed them 
again as Muhammud, a volunteer paramedic, murmured "ayeesh, nufuss"- live, breathe- over and over to him. He lost 
consciousness as we arrived at the hospital, received into the arms of friends who carried him into the emergency room. 
He, Majid, lived and is recovering.

A few minutes later there was another missile strike, this time on a residential house. As we arrived a crowd had rushed 
to the ruins of the four story home in an attempt to drag survivors out from under the rubble. The family the house 
belonged to had evacuated the area the day before and the only person in it at the time of the strike was 17 year old 
Muhammud who had gone back to collect clothes for his family. He was dragged out from under the rubble still breathing- 
his legs twisted in unnatural directions and with a head wound, but alive. There was no choice but to move him, with the 
imminence of a possible second strike, and he lay in the ambulance moaning with pain and calling for his mother. We 
thought he would live, he was conscious though in intense pain and with the rest of the night consumed with call after 
call to pick up the wounded and the dead, I forgot to check on him. This morning we were called to pick up a body from 
Shifa hospital to take back to Jabaliya. We carried a body wrapped in a blood-soaked white shroud into the ambulance, 
and it wasn't until we were on the road that we realized that it was Muhammud's body. His brother rode with us, opening 
the shroud to tenderly kiss Muhammud's forehead.

This morning we received news that Al-Quds hospital in Gaza City was under siege. We tried unsuccessfully for hours to 
gain access to the hospital, trying to organize co-ordination to get the ambulances past Israeli tanks and snipers to 
evacuate the wounded and dead. Hours of unsuccessful attempts later we received a call from the Shujahiya neighborhood, 
describing a house where there were both dead and wounded patients to pick up. The area was deserted, many families 
having fled as Israeli tanks and snipers took up position amongst their homes, other silent in the dark, cold confines 
of their homes, crawling from room to room to avoid sniper fire through their windows.

As we drove slowly around the area, we heard women's cries for help. We approached their house on foot, followed by the 
ambulances and as we came to the threshold of their home, they rushed towards us with their children, shaking and crying 
with shock. At the door of the house the ambulance lights exposed the bodies of four men, lacerated by shrapnel wounds- 
the skull and brains of one exposed, others whose limbs had been severed off. The four were the husbands and brothers of 
the women, who had ventured out to search for bread and food for their families. Their bodies were still warm as we 
struggled to carry them on stretchers over the uneven ground, their blood staining the earth and our clothes. As we 
prepared to leave the area our torches illuminated the slumped figure of another man, his abdomen and chest shredded by 
shrapnel. With no space in the other ambulances, and the imminent possibility of sniper fire, we were forced to take his 
body in the back of the ambulance carrying the women and children. One of the little girls stared at me before coming 
into my arms and telling me her name- Fidaa', which means to sacrifice. She stared at the body bag, asking when he would 
wake up.

Once back at the hospital we received word that the Israeli army had shelled Al Quds hospital, that the ensuing fire 
risked spreading and that there had been a 20-minute time-frame negotiated to evacuate patients, doctors and residents 
in the surrounding houses. By the time we got up there in a convoy of ambulances, hundreds of people had gathered. With 
the shelling of the UNRWA compound and the hospital there was a deep awareness that nowhere in Gaza is safe, or sacred.

We helped evacuate those assembled to near-by hospitals and schools that have been opened to receive the displaced. The 
scenes were deeply saddening- families, desperate and carrying their children, blankets and bags of their possessions 
venturing out in the cold night to try to find a corner of a school or hospital to shelter in. The paramedic we were 
with referred to the displacement of the over 46,000 Gazan Palestinians now on the move as a continuation of the ongoing 
Nakba of dispossession and exile seen through generation after generation enduring massacre after massacre.

Today's death toll was over 75, one of the bloodiest days since the start of this carnage. Over 1,110 Palestinians have 
been killed in the past 21 days. 367 of those have been children. The humanitarian infrastructure of Gaza is on its 
knees- already devastated by years of comprehensive siege. There has been a deliberate, systematic destruction of all 
places of refuge. There are no safe places here, for anyone.

And yet, in the face of so much desecration, this community has remained intact. The social solidarity and support 
between people is inspiring, and the steadfastness of Gaza continues to humble and inspire all those who witness it. 
Their level of sacrifice demands our collective response- and recognition that demonstrations are not enough. Gaza, 
Palestine and its people continue to live, breathe, resist and remain intact and this refusal to be broken is a call and 
challenge to us all.

Caoimhe Butterly is an Irish human rights activist working in Jabaliya and Gaza City as a volunteer with ambulance 
services and as co-coordinator for the Free Gaza Movement, She can be contacted at [log in to unmask]

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