Israeli Police Attack Nakba 60 Demonstration at the site of the 1948 destroyed Saffuriyya Village, Galilee

By Maram Mahajna

Palestinian citizens of Israel wave flags at demonstration at site of 1948 destroyed village of Saffuriyya. (Photo Mahmood Odeh).

Editor’s Note: Born in New York, at age 7 Maram Mahajna and her parents returned to their homeland, and she continued her schooling in an American high school program in Nazareth. On Nakba Day this year, 18-year-old Maram and a high school classmate joined thousands of Palestinians to commemorate 60 years of Palestinian dispossession at the site of the destroyed village of Saffuriyya—the home of Maram’s maternal grandmother. Maram Mahajna documented the events for the Washington Report:

SIXTY YEARS ago on May 15 the Israeli nation was established. For Israelis this is a festive day, but the Palestinians, including those living in Israel, hold a different narrative and understanding of this day and what it symbolizes. For Palestinians this is Nakba Day, meaning “day of great catastrophe,” commemorating that great catastrophe of 60 years ago. While the numbers of dead cannot be compared with Hitler’s ethnic cleansing, the destruction of a nation and targeting of an ethnic group can be. More than 700,000 Palestinians fled their homes, with historians such as Ilan Pappé documenting the 1948 destruction of more than 500 villages.

This day is a day of remembrance and sorrow to the Palestinian community within Israel and around the world. For Palestinians in Israel, every year a demonstration is held in a different one of the destroyed villages of 1948. Saffuriyya, which is today occupied by Kibbutz Zippori and other Jewish residents, was the destination for this year’s procession. Thousands chose to walk the fields of Saffuriyya on that day to commemorate and honor the people who died fighting for their country 60 years ago, and the hundreds of thousands of ordinary villagers who lost their homes and lands.

What differentiates and defines a Palestinian demonstration within Israel from a demonstration by its Jewish citizens is the violence and terror these protesters risk from Israeli forces—irrespective of the fact that they are legal demonstrations.

In Saffuriyya, shadows of 1948 returned as Israeli police attacked protesters standing and raising their Palestinian flags in hopes of once again calling that very land Palestine. The clashes erupted at the end of the rally, held within the forests of Saffuriyya, as many young protesters stood on the main road that leads to the city of Nazareth. These young protesters—of whom I was one—were startled at the sight of about a dozen Israeli policemen standing across from them. The officers were from a special unit called the Yassam, known for their rather large size and strength, as well as their insensitive approach to what they might see as trouble.

The Palestinian protesters were singing and chanting the words of patriotic hymns while raising the Palestinian flag in a mournful yet sedate manner. Across the street from them was a group of around 50 Israelis chanting nationalist Israeli hymns, while raising the Israeli flag—for Palestinians, the flag of occupation—in an attempt to provoke a response.

To no one’s great surprise, the Israeli police requested the Palestinian protesters to put down their flags. The protesters ignored the demand, since the demonstration was legally approved by the Israeli government, meaning that they were allowed to raise their flag and commemorate this day however they pleased. Once the police requests were denied, however, the police resorted to brute force and began pushing and forcefully lowering the flags.

Seemingly determined to continue their strategy, the Yassam agents began beating and shoving whomever was in their way—which at this point included not only young protesters on the main road, but elderly participants in the rally, as well as infants and children who had come out of the forest on their way home.

I was in the middle of the violent crowd. With me was my 17-year-old friend, Mahmood Odeh, who was videotaping everything (footage from many attending can be seen on YouTube). My parents also were at the procession, but at the moment they were nowhere to be found.

Then we began to see coming out of the distance policemen on horseback galloping toward us. Startled, shocked and horrified, our basic instinct and reaction was to run! So everyone began running up the hill adjacent to the main road. The mounted Israeli policemen brought with them a cloud of toxic smoke, as they fired tear gas all about, regardless of the number of infants and elderly present. When I reached the top of the hill I stood for a few seconds trying to gather my thoughts. Then I noticed my mother a few feet below me, startled and crying in fear; the sight of her searching for me and asking about me with a mixture of tears and terror in her eyes was devastating to me.

After my mother and I were reunited, we continued along the path into the woods with the other protesters, trying to reach a safer spot. On our way to that safer zone, we ran into a woman who was almost having a seizure because she could not find her two young children. I could not bear the sight of her weeping. A few of the people around her and I tried to calm her down, but she was inconsolable.

By the time we reached the spot where the march had begun, I had contacted my father and friend, and we agreed to meet where my father had parked his car in order to escape the riot.

That was the first time I truly understood what it meant to be Palestinian. It means not having the freedom to commemorate your loss, to be obliged to endure endless racism and violence, to be blamed for people’s wrongdoing against you, to have all your rights and truths overruled, to have no say, or rights… To never be free in soul, rights or country—that is the definition of being Palestinian.

I now can finally understand an ounce of what my grandparents endured. Being chased after by tens of Israeli policemen for the sole reason of commemorating your lost homeland and people in a legal demonstration is one of the most difficult experiences I have ever had. We hear people say that Palestinians inside Israel are full citizens. This event was a clear reflection of what a Palestinian’s value and position is in this so-called democratic country. To dream and hope of once again calling this very land ard Falasteen seems like an unreachable dream—but we must keep on dreaming…

Maram Mahajna is a Palestinian-American with Israeli citizenship living in the Galilee. She can be contacted at: <maram_mahajna@hotmail.com>.