Sabado, Hulyo 23, 2011

PERCH HIGH, SEE FARTHER!




also at WWW.AF3IRM.ORG  

 Justice for Palestine: A Call to Action from Indigenous and Women of Color Feminists

Between June 14 and June 23, 2011, a delegation of 11 scholars, activists, and artists visited occupied Palestine.  As indigenous and women of color feminists involved in multiple social justice struggles, we sought to affirm our association with the growing international movement for a free Palestine.  We wanted to see for ourselves the conditions under which Palestinian people live and struggle against what we can now confidently name as the Israeli project of apartheid and ethnic cleansing.  Each and every one of us—including those members of our delegation who grew up in the Jim Crow South, in apartheid South Africa, and on Indian reservations in the U.S.—was shocked by what we saw.  In this statement we describe some of our experiences and issue an urgent call to others who share our commitment to racial justice, equality, and freedom.

During our short stay in Palestine, we met with academics, students, youth, leaders of civic organizations, elected officials, trade unionists, political leaders, artists, and civil society activists, as well as residents of refugee camps and villages that have been recently attacked by Israeli soldiers and settlers.  Everyone we encountered—in Nablus, Awarta, Balata, Jerusalem, Hebron, Dheisheh, Bethlehem, Birzeit, Ramallah, Um el-Fahem, and Haifa—asked us to tell the truth about life under occupation and about their unwavering commitment to a free Palestine. We were deeply impressed by people’s insistence on the linkages between the movement for a free Palestine and struggles for justice throughout the world; as Martin Luther King, Jr. insisted throughout his life, “Justice is indivisible. Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.”

Traveling by bus throughout the country, we saw vast numbers of Israeli settlements ominously perched in the hills, bearing witness to the systematic confiscation of Palestinian land in flagrant violation of international law and United Nations resolutions.  We met with refugees across the country whose families had been evicted from their homes by Zionist forces, their land confiscated, their villages and olive groves razed.  As a consequence of this ongoing displacement, Palestinians comprise the largest refugee population in the world (over five million), the majority living within 100 kilometers of their natal homes, villages, and farmlands.  In defiance of United Nations Resolution 194, Israel has an active policy of opposing the right of Palestinian refugees to return to their ancestral homes and lands on the grounds that they are not entitled to exercise the Israeli Law of Return, which is reserved for Jews.
In Sheikh Jarrah, a neighborhood in eastern occupied Jerusalem, we met an 88-year-old woman who was forcibly evicted in the middle of the night; she watched as the Israeli military moved settlers into her house a mere two hours later.  Now living in the small back rooms of what was once her large family residence, she defiantly asserted that neither Israel’s courts nor its military could ever force her from her home.  In the city of Hebron, we were stunned by the conspicuous presence of Israeli soldiers, who maintain veritable conditions of apartheid for the city’s Palestinian population of almost 200,000, as against its 700 Jewish settlers. We crossed several Israeli checkpoints designed to control Palestinian movement on West Bank roads and along the Green Line.  Throughout our stay, we met Palestinians who, because of Israel’s annexation of Jerusalem and plans to remove its native population, have been denied entry to the Holy City.  We spoke to a man who lives ten minutes away from Jerusalem but who has not been able to enter the city for twenty-seven years. The Israeli government thus continues to wage a demographic war for Jewish dominance over the Palestinian population.

We were never able to escape the jarring sight of the ubiquitous apartheid wall, which stands in contempt of international law and human rights principles.  Constructed of twenty-five-foot-high concrete slabs, electrified cyclone fencing, and winding razor wire, it almost completely encloses the West Bank and extends well east of the Green Line marking Israel’s pre-1967 borders.  It snakes its way through ancient olive groves, destroying the beauty of the landscape, dividing communities and families, severing farmers from their fields and depriving them of their livelihood.  In Abu Dis, the wall cuts across the campus of Al Quds University through the soccer field.  In Qalqiliya, we saw massive gates built to control the entry and access of Palestinians to their lands and homes, including a gated corridor through which Palestinians with increasingly rare Israeli-issued permits are processed as they enter Israel for work, sustaining the very state that has displaced them.  Palestinian children are forced through similar corridors, lining-up for hours twice each day to attend school.  As one Palestinian colleague put it, “Occupied Palestine is the largest prison in the world.”

An extensive prison system bolsters the occupation and suppresses resistance.  Everywhere we went we met people who had either been imprisoned themselves or had relatives who had been incarcerated.  Twenty thousand Palestinians are locked inside Israeli prisons, at least 8,000 of them are political prisoners and more than 300 are children.  In Jerusalem, we met with members of the Palestinian Legislative Council who are being protected from arrest by the International Committee of the Red Cross.  In Um el-Fahem, we met with an Islamist leader just after his release from prison and heard a riveting account of his experience on the Mavi Marmara and the 2010 Gaza Flotilla.  The criminalization of their political activity, and that of the many Palestinians we met, was a constant and harrowing theme. 

We also came to understand how overt repression is buttressed by deceptive representations of the state of Israel as the most developed social democracy in the region.  As feminists, we deplore the Israeli practice of “pink-washing,” the state’s use of ostensible support for gender and sexual equality to dress-up its occupation.  In Palestine, we consistently found evidence and analyses of a more substantive approach to an indivisible justice.  We met the President and the leadership of the Arab Feminist Union and several other women’s groups in Nablus who spoke about the role and struggles of Palestinian women on several fronts.  We visited one of the oldest women’s empowerment centers in Palestine, In’ash al-Usra, and learned about various income-generating cultural projects.  We also spoke with Palestinian Queers for BDS [Boycott, Divestment, and Sanctions], young organizers who frame the struggle for gender and sexual justice as part and parcel of a comprehensive framework for self-determination and liberation.  Feminist colleagues at Birzeit University, An-Najah University, and Mada al-Carmel spoke to us about the organic linkage of anti-colonial resistance with gender and sexual equality, as well as about the transformative role Palestinian institutions of higher education play in these struggles.

We were continually inspired by the deep and abiding spirit of resistance in the stories people told us, in the murals inside buildings such as Ibdaa Center in Dheisheh Refugee Camp, in slogans painted on the apartheid wall in Qalqiliya, Bethlehem, and Abu Dis, in the education of young children, and in the commitment to emancipatory knowledge production.  At our meeting with the Boycott National Committee—an umbrella alliance of over 200 Palestinian civil society organizations, including the General Union of Palestinian Women, the General Union of Palestinian Workers, the Palestinian Academic and Cultural Boycott of Israel [PACBI], and the Palestinian Network of NGOs—we were humbled by their appeal: “We are not asking you for heroic action or to form freedom brigades. We are simply asking you not to be complicit in perpetuating the crimes of the Israeli state.” 

Therefore, we unequivocally endorse the Boycott, Divestment, and Sanctions Campaign. The purpose of this campaign is to pressure Israeli state-sponsored institutions to adhere to international law, basic human rights, and democratic principles as a condition for just and equitable social relations.  We reject the argument that to criticize the State of Israel is anti-Semitic.  We stand with Palestinians, an increasing number of Jews, and other human rights activists all over the world in condemning the flagrant injustices of the Israeli occupation.

We call upon all of our academic and activist colleagues in the U.S. and elsewhere to join us by endorsing the BDS campaign and by working to end U.S. financial support, at $8.2 million daily, for the Israeli state and its occupation.  We call upon all people of conscience to engage in serious dialogue about Palestine and to acknowledge connections between the Palestinian cause and other struggles for justice.  Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. 


Rabab Abdulhadi, San Francisco State University*
Ayoka Chenzira, artist and filmmaker, Atlanta, GA
Angela Y. Davis, University of California, Santa Cruz*
Gina Dent, University of California, Santa Cruz*
G. Melissa Garcia, Ph.D. Candidate, Yale University*
Anna Romina Guevarra, author and sociologist, Chicago, IL
Beverly Guy-Sheftall, author, Atlanta, GA
Premilla Nadasen, author, New York, NY
Barbara Ransby, author and historian, Chicago, IL
Chandra Talpade Mohanty, Syracuse University*
Waziyatawin, University of Victoria*
*For identification purposes only
For press inquiries, please contact feministdelegation@gmail.com.

Huwebes, Hulyo 7, 2011

ANO ANG BANGSAMORO WOMAN?

A YOUNG TAUSUG MAN SPEAKS UP



















by Zmira Layson

Ngayon karamihan sa amin hindi na aktib, yung iba nag-asawa na, nag-abroad, tapos yung pinakalider namin naisyuhan ng warrant of arrest, napilitang magtago. Pero iyong mga babaeng nakasama namin, nanduon pa rin. Among the women and men na inorganisa namin, ang natitira talaga ay ang mga babae. Sa experience ko on the ground, na-realize ko na mas matibay talaga ang mga babae kaysa sa mga lalaki.

Lunsad: Para sa iyo, ano ba ang dapat na Bangsamoro woman?

Wahid Kasiri: Ilabas niya ang kanyang kakayahan, at hindi papayag na gawing hindrance ang pagkababae niya para mag-participate sa lahat ng bagay, in all fields. Halimbawa, yung sa Qur’an mismo, sa Hadith, wala akong nakikitang babaeng nagi-interpret ng Qur-an, kaya kung makikita mo, yung mga translations ng Qur’an minsan ay masasabi nating maraming babaeng hindi nasa-satisfied, dahil ang nagta-translate ay puro na lang lalaki, walang babae. Bakit wala?

Lunsad: Di ba bawal sa babae iyon?

WK: Di puedeng maging bawal. Kung basahin n’yo ang Qur’an, kay Yusuf Ali, halimbawa, sinabi sa second or sa first page pa lang na it’s the responsibility of both men and women to read the Qur’an according to the capacity of their knowledge. Walang sinabi doon na di puwede ang babae.

Lunsad: Gaano ba ka popular ang ganitong pag-iisip?

WK: Hindi popular, di kasi masiyadong niri-recognize ang kakayahan ng mga babae. May pagka-macho pa rin. Kaya nga gawin nating popular.

Lunsad: Ikaw pa’no mo nakuha ang ganitong frame of mind?

WK: Out of realization sa actual situation. In early 2000, everyday, me patayan sa downtown Jolo, tinatapon ang patay doon sa malapit sa munisipyo, tapos, yung mga classmates ko sa hayskul, nagkikitakita kami at nag-uusap. Dun kami magkikitakita sa bahay nung isa naming kasama. Tapos later nagsasamasama ako sa rali, tulong sa human rights issue. Ngayon karamihan sa amin hindi na aktib, yung iba nag-asawa na, nag-abroad, tapos yung pinakalider namin naisyuhan ng warrant of arrest, napilitang magtago. Pero iyong mga babaeng nakasama namin, nanduon pa rin. Among the women and men na inorganisa namin, ang natitira talaga ay ang mga babae. Parang wake-up call ito sa mga Muslim. Ang tibay ng kababaihan parang matagal nang nakakalimutan.

Lunsad: Paano ma-maximize ang participation ng kababaihan?

WK: Una, sa organizing. Hirap kasi, minsan, maging ang mga babae mismo, tanggap nila na sila’y babae. O dahil babae lang sila, “hanggang dito lang kami, hanggang kusina lang kami”. Kaya dapat yata ang mga initiative para sa pagbabago, dapat sa babae din manggagaling. At sa mga lalaki din. Ang kailangan lang ay tao o grupo willing to organize them at mag-ikot para unti-unti lalabas iyong nakatagong lakas na iyon ng kababaihan.

Ngayon meron na tayong internet, madali nang gumawa ng publication, puwedeng puwede na. Ito’y mga tools para mamulat ang kababaihan sa pag-participate, isang bagay na dapat na i-welcome din ng kalalakihan.

Para sa akin, walang problema sa akin kung babae ang mag-lead. Gustong-gusto kong ma-maximize, ma-utilize ang capacity ng babae. Nakikita ko kasi ang titibay ng mga babae, especially sa human rights field. Sa experience ko on the ground, na-realize ko na mas matibay talaga ang mga babae kaysa sa mga lalaki. Mas magaling kumuha ng information, mas effective sa human rights work.

Lunsad: Bakit matibay?

WK: Matibay dahil nandiyan pa sila hanggang ngayon. Despite sa lahat ng harassments. Sa experience ko, marami kami sa umpisa, tapos unti-unti, nawawala. Iyong ibang mga lider namin, nilakad ng military at ng government para mapaalis sa Sulu mismo.

Ang iba, pinapaalis ng parents nila, ang iba nagtatrabaho na, lahat may kanya-kanyang dahilan. Pati ako kailangan kong umalis muna. Pero iyong mga kababaihan, pag-uwi ko nandoon pa rin, dedicated sa trabaho, ang iba kahit halos wala nang kahit alawans man lang.

Lunsad: May mga kababaihan rin ba sa inyo na kumu-question sa kanilang traditional role sa Bangsamoro society?

WK: Alam nila, pero okay lang sa kanila. Pero meron naman tayong na-organize na hanggang ngayon ay active pa rin, nandoon pa rin sa community. Sila iyong matatapang na nagbo-volunteer na pumunta sa site ng aerial bombing. Until now, these women volunteers are still active and organized. Na-recognize na ang capacity ng kababaihan sa ganitong mga bagay. Ang isang hindi ko makalimutan si Farida. Noong nag-impose ng ID system sa Sulu pagkatapos na i-declare ang emergency rule, ang sabi ni Governor Tan may ready funds na intended for the ID. Ang funds na binanggit niya ay P120 million. Tumayo si Farida, sabi niya, “Gov, kung ginamit mo na lang kaya para sa patubig ang funds na iyan, makakatulong ka pa sa mga consitutuents mo.” Remember, Governor iyon ha, hindi ordinary governor si Governor Tan, at babae ang nagsasalita. Nagulat si Gov, unexpected niya na may maglakas loob na babae, buntis pa.
Sa nakikita ko, lumalabas na unti-unti ang mga kababaihan ngayaon at sayang kapag di ipagpatuloy.

Lunsad: Nag-aarmas din ba ang mga babae sa Moro liberation movement?

WK: Meron silang ni-recruit na to the extent nag-aarmas pero para sa akin, pangdisplay lang iyon. Although may mga training din sila, pero kulang pa. Hindi na-maximize ang power ng kababaihan para mag-participate sa revolution. Meron pa ring pagka-macho. Kung babae ka, babae ka. Di ka puede doon, pang lalaki iyon.

Lunsad: Paano maximize?

WK: I-recognize talaga ang kanyang kakayahan. Kung makausap mo siya, treat her as equal, huwag iparamdam na may kaibahan, na babae lang siya, walang kakayahan. Kasi ang capacity ng knowledge, walang pagkakaiba, ma-babae man o ma-lalaki. Sa nakikita ko, pumupunta ako minsan sa mga kampo ng MNLF, may mga kababaihan pero wala sa kanilang umuupo at sumasali sa meeting. Kung meron man, hindi rin nagsasalita. Nandoon kaagad ang gap, parang may wall kaagad. Babae ka, lalaki ka. Sa nakikita ko, disadvantage iyon sa rebolusyon. Instead na makatulong at ma-maximize ang kakayahan ng babae sa pagkikilos, nagiging disadvantage siya.

Lunes, Hulyo 4, 2011

Two Poems from Ambung Batak

1 Pagbunuh Akkal Akkal

Parinta nagpikilan
manga military general nagkaisunan
pa gubnul timangdan
pilak kawasa iyumpan
lupah sug hantang akkalan

Ubus nagpilma
general nag ordil
opisyal iban tindug pulitik piyulin
sinapang iban sin
kan gubnul hi bin

mangga mayul iban gubnul nagpikil..
nagbista...alta iban kawasa
yaun na ha lawm lima
abut nagkaisunan
jimanji pa general
misan uni in diman hirihil
basta sinapang hiumpan

unu pa kaw, general nagkuman
mayul gubnul timabang
lupah sug dahpugan!

sundalu natipun na
helecopter yaun na
bam kanyun tiluh
nabal plane simaunuh
timuyung pa sin pagbunuh!

Sundalu limahsay
nanunug lupah bay
pagkahi ta piyagtawakkal
biyaman miyultal
nagsulang saling in patay

tumtumun ta ra kuman ha atay
bunuh way kasabunnalan
Lupah sug kiyaakkalan
ha ngan sin kasawa iban sinapang
pagkahi hinang dagangan!



2 Maap, Kah Tuan!

Inihambuuk pangasubu
pa manga bilal iban mga kaguruhan ko
dih na aku maglampik
arapun maapa niyu man ako
bang sammal dungugun sin manga maas biyah kaniyu

maytah bahah hikasipug
bang awn ma-reyp ha kauman mu?
Maas uway mahinang
anak iyusibaan tahan dakuman
tumapuk sin kasipugan.

Batah dih na makapagsumbung
siyasanggupan hilapun
pa manga lahasiyah patayun

maap da kuman kah tuan
hikapangasubu ku ra kuman
maytah bihayan in hijajaan
sin biyah kaniyuh kimakamput agama Islam
pila na budjang budjang nagtitirung
pulak pulak adlaw iyausibaan ditun ha lungan?

Sabado, Hulyo 2, 2011

Jagjag na?*


Ask anyone who had gotten back to Sulu, how is the old hometown? And they will tell you: Wayna. Jagjag na. Hopeless.

It is still my hometown, a middle-aged woman just home from the Middle East, said to Lunsad. She and her family lived for a little while in the KSA, he as an engineer, she as a nurse. Her husband has remained there, to make a little more money, she takes care of the three children now to study in a private grade school in Zamboanga. She is faring well, now with a nice house in the city and some savings in the bank. Her relatives back in Jolo are still there in Asturias, but cannot welcome them home in the islands. She is told not to go there, not even for a short vacation, they say there’s nothing to see there anymore. So for a couple of decades now, she has not stepped back on her hometown and it angers her so, she says, for even if she and her family were doing well abroad, Jolo is still her home; abroad and elsewhere she will always be a stranger and an exile.

Such stories, we can say, are found anywhere else in the country—the countryside being pillaged by politicians and businessmen, the heirs to the land and its workers and legitimate occupants nailed down in poverty or are forced to leave and find other shores. The better-off send their sons and daughters to the cities; the sons and daughters raise their own families in the cities. So what remains are less than what we all are and could be as a nation.

The more one sees of Jolo, the less one hopes. The food scarcity is at its worst. Talipao, the province’s food basket once, now tagged an Abu Sayyaf lair, is host to the military’s so-called surgical operation, making agricultural production next to impossible. The local town executives, with advise from the same military, has moreover imposed a curfew on the fishing villages. After eleven in the evening the fishermen could no longer fish. Eleven o’ clock is when the military deploy their spy planes. If one is sighted at sea or anywhere else outside of one’s house after eleven o’ clock, they are contraband and, ergo, open target.

The curfew, of course, only applies to small fishers. The trawlers scouring the deep are exempt. So are the helicopters nloading men and equipment for the ongoing oil drillings. Bud Datu, Bud Bagsak and Bud Tumatangis are now host to sophisticated, and strategically positioned, defense structures and facilities.

US military presence in the Sulu Islands is placed at around 200 GIs, excluding the engineering and medical divisions which have orders to stay in camp. In the Bud Datu base where around 50 GIs are housed, the military base is erected in what used to be burial grounds of Muslim missionaries. Massacres had been committed here as well. At present, the place has been virtually converted into a spa garden complete with sports facilities and state-of-the-art binoculars with separate quarters for Moro soldiers and women soldiers. On good days, prostitutes would be brought in, either from Manila or Zamboanga, sometimes aboard helicopters carrying the officers.

These American GIs take part not only in intelligence work but also in military combat. More importantly, they are there to secure the ongoing oil drillings in the islands. Now and then we get news from Jolo saying US soldiers died from malaria or from drowning when the truth is they actually died in encounters they are not supposed to take part in.

But of course, it is always easier to critique the world than to change it. And those of us who are stuck in the islands seeing it all and living it as well –including the flood, the water scarcity, the endless power interruptions, the thefts in the offices, the  insurmountability of it all-- have our one foot to the door. Surely, there is a better world elsewhere?

We each are either part of the problem, or part of the solution.

*In a complete state of ruin