An Arab woman in a Jewish state

February 18, 1998
Issue 

By Manal Diab

WEST BANK — Twice in the last three months, my room-mates and I, Palestinian women living in our native land, were attacked by our Jewish neighbours. Palestinians continue to be treated as unwanted foreigners in their own land.

Last July, myself and two friends, both Palestinian and Israeli citizens, moved into an apartment in the West Jerusalem neighbourhood of Musrara. The eastern portion is mostly Arab and the western mostly Israeli.

We moved into the top floor of a new building because of its convenient location and reasonable rent. We did not deliberately choose a Jewish neighbourhood, but we felt that everyone should be able to live wherever they want. The vast majority of residents in these new apartments are secular Jews.

Musrara borders on Mea Sharim, the home of ultra-Orthodox Jewry. Over the past 10 years, this neighbourhood has been expanding. As part of this expansion, my room-mates and I have been subject to a vicious campaign of intimidation designed to force us to leave.

The violence began with verbal attacks (cries of "Go to Jordan! Go to Gaza! To Ras El Amoud! This is not your country!"), then graffiti on our door (including swastikas), and stones thrown at us. On October 13 our door was set on fire and on December 1 a bomb exploded on our doorstep.

As we walk through our neighbourhood, we constantly hear whispers pointing us out as Arab. People look at us with a mixture of fear and wonder.

We are not the only Arabs on our street; below our building is an Arab home. They too are subject to intimidation, as are the residents of a convent at the top of our street.

Following the first attack, the response of the police was appalling. They did not follow through with an investigation; neither did they give us more protection or try to find our attackers.

When the police arrived after the bombing, I spotted a Hasidic man on a bicycle riding out of the neighbourhood — a very odd occurrence at such an hour. I begged the police to stop and question the man, but they ignored me. This was the beginning of a pattern of indifference that has continued to this day.

The police refuse to post an officer on the street, and they will not even step up the patrols.

Even the Jerusalem mayor, when he came to inspect, wanted to know why we were living in a Jewish neighbourhood, as if we were somehow to blame for the attack.

The police have tried to convince us that Arabs are most likely to blame, ignoring overwhelming evidence to the contrary: the swastika, the stones thrown at us by Hasidic children, the Hebrew word "nevella" (a biblical term for a female rotting carcass) written on the wall in our stairwell as well as the words "manyakim hakhutsa" (fuckers get out) on our mailbox.

If we were Jewish women under attack by Arabs, every Arab in the neighbourhood would be arrested, dozens of police would remain in the streets and identity cards would be confiscated. But because we are Arab victims of Jewish violence, we are not considered worthy of even the most basic protection.

Growing up as an Arab in Israel, I always felt a second-class citizen. In a Zionist context, to be an Arab, a Palestinian, means you are not considered an equal member of society.

I live between two worlds. To be an Arab woman means also being oppressed by traditional Arab society. Whether Muslim or Christian, the patriarchal mentality of traditional Arab society requires me to live according to a strict moral code. To assert my right to live as a free woman is an everyday struggle.

The Jewish state must be replaced with a secular state which encompasses all of the pre-1948 borders and recognises all its peoples. Oslo is not the answer. The choice is not between Likud and Labour (both support a Jewish country), nor between Israel and the PLO (who want to divide the land).

How can my people, our land, be split in two? I believe deeply in Palestine, but I also recognise the reality that many Jews are also here. There should be one state for everyone.

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