Newsgroup: it.politica.internazionale
Titolo: ancora sui coloni che hanno le loro ragioni, che solo l'oleh può riconoscere...

Abed Al-Fatah Al-Hindi, a resident of the Nablus-area village of Tal,
reaches the main highway between the Hawara and Git junctions, near
the Gilad Farm. An International Red Cross crew stands waiting for
him. He is bleeding from a large scalp wound, and his left eye is
swollen.
A paramedic bandages his head, and a volunteer from Rabbis for Human
Rights cleans his face. "Every year there's a mess," the villager
tells Haaretz. "It's just the first day of the olive harvest, and six
settlers attacked me. There wasn't much we could do."
Around seven in the morning, Al-Hindi, his sisters and four other men
came to the family olive grove, just 200 meters from Gilad Farm, not
far from Nablus, one of the dozens of illegal outposts spread across
the West Bank. They harvested for three hours, until 10, when they
noticed a group of settlers approaching from the direction of the
outpost.
"They shouted, 'This is our grove, you can't go near it,' and threw
rocks at us," says Al-Hindi. "One of them held my arm and another beat
my head with a rock. I yelled 'Allahu Akbar, Allahu Akbar, and they
said, 'I don't give a shit.' They beat me until they left."
10:52 - A police jeep arrives at the scene. Officer Amnon Barda gets
out and begins questioning Abed. "Where were you? Did you see them? Do
you know them? Where is your identity card?"
Zakhariah Sadah, a resident of the neighboring village of Git and an
activist who works with Rabbis for Human Rights, offers his services
as a translator, but Barda gets by. According to Sadah, after settlers
threw rocks at olive harvesters at the nearby Farateh village, he and
some Israeli volunteers guarded the groves. He says Al-Hindi and his
family came to the grove without coordinating their arrival with
Israeli authorities.
10:57 - A unit of the police Special Patrol Unit arrives in two
vehicles. Barda updates the unit's commander on the incident. "What
were they wearing?" he asks Al-Hindi, translating for a Special Unit
member. "A white shirt, dark pants, black, tzitzit (ritual fringes)."
"That doesn't help me," the Special Unit man replies. "Did they have
anything special on them? A hat? A pack?" Meanwhile, Barda has
explained to Al-Hindi and Sadah they must file a complaint for an
investigation to be opened. "This is already the third time that
they've attacked in the last few days," Sadah says."
"But we don't hear about this in time," Barda responds.
11:07 - A police convoy slowly enters Gilad Farm. Barda's jeep is at
the lead, followed by the two Special Unit vehicles. A new permanent
structure is visible on a nearby hilltop, as is the constant expansion
of the outpost. The jeep stops, and Special Unit officers are
dispatched to remove Haaretz staffers on the grounds they are in a
closed military zone.
11:18 - The incident is over. In the space of 11 minutes of activity
in the outpost, which did not include searches, but rather polite
questioning of a few residents, the police force exits Gilad Farm.
On his way out, Barda explains: "We were there, and we didn't find
anything. Ask the spokesman of the Shai [West Bank police] district."
The spokesman, Danny Poleg, says, "They searched according to the
description of the suspects. This is being given over to handling on
the intelligence level."
12:30 - Not far from Al-Hindi's olive grove stands Ibrahim Salah, 54,
from Farateh village. Salah has been working for eight days, morning
until evening, in the olive groves that belong to him and his family.
On Tuesday, his wife Nadia, his daughter Majed and his five-year-old
grandson Salah were harvesting olives in the grove next to their
house. They threw the olives onto a large black tarp and sorted them:
the black ones solely for olive oil, the green ones for eating or oil.
Especially large green ones are considered a delicacy. They hauled the
olives to a neighboring olive press, at which the yield of each tree
will provide four to five liters of olive oil. A liter will sell for
NIS 20. This year's crop is less successful than last year's.
According to Salah, in the present harvest, at least, the Civil
Administration and the police have shown evident desire to help. "We
coordinated the harvest at the grove next to the Gilad Farm two months
in advance," he says. "Every morning, Rafi from the Coordination and
Liaison Office calls me to tell me that I can come. When the police
are there, there's no problem whatsoever. The situation this year has
improved greatly. But the army by itself is worthless, because the
soldiers do not take action."
Last year, settlers beat his son, Salah says, his voice charged with
emotion. "They cut open his head and broke his arm. The army was
there, but they did nothing, and the settlers continued to attack us."
Salah notes that the violence takes place within the villages as well.
Three days ago, three armed settlers came to the entrance of the
village, attacked a group of harvesters and threw everything they had
harvested in every direction. "They have to be thrown out of these
lands. They took over these lands and did not purchase them," he says.
Rachel Merhav, a volunteer from Yesh Din (Volunteers for Human
Rights), which monitors settler violations of the law in the
territories, declines to revel in the improvement this year. "Israel's
splendid security forces know how to find the people they want to,"
she says. "But where violence by settlers is concerned, the process of
bringing people to justice falls short." Dozens of cases have been
closed under the determination that "the offender is unknown," Merhav
says, adding that the pursuit of those cases in which an investigation
is opened also falls short.
This week, Yesh Din sent a letter to the overall army's West Bank
commander and the commander of the West Bank police district,
demanding they take action to safeguard the olive harvest, prevent
attacks on Palestinian farmers, and prosecute law breakers seeking to
disrupt the harvest.
Yesh Did studied a series of incidents last year between settlers and
Palestinian harvesters, finding that not a single indictment was filed
from investigations of the attacks.
In response, police spokesman Poleg says Yesh Din's list of demands
has yet to reach the police district office, and that the group's
complaints will be examined.
http://www.haaretz.com/hasen/spages/914123.html

said, 'I don't give a shit.' They beat me until they left."
E le sorelle e i 4 uomini dove erano finiti? :)
*LOL*
-Stefano