Messages of Support to Mustafa Tamimi's Family

Martyrs are not numbers. It is essential for us and for supporters of the Palestinian cause to remember the stories behind the names and numbers.

For this reason, we offering this space as a platform where your voices will be heard regarding the first martyr the village of Nabi Saleh has sacrificed.

Write a message to Mustafa Tamimi's family here. We will collect, translate, and print them all into a journal which we will then present to Mustafa's family.


Let us not forget Mustafa.
On December 9th, 2011 a freedom fighter was ruthlessly murdered defending his village and the principles of freedom and justice which he fought and was previously imprisoned for by the Israeli occupation.

Mustafa Tamimi, the 28 year old resident of the tiny village of Nabi Saleh, was shot by an Israeli soldier who opened the back door of the armored jeep and fired a tear gas canister directly to his face from a distance of 3 meters.

Let us not forget Mustafa.
Villagers, locals, and other familiar activists remember Mustafa as one of the first to greet them in the village, before the popular protests started. He was the oldest of four brothers and one sister, and was engaged to be married the next month. He had the initial of his fiance tattooed on his chest, and was preparing to build another story above his parents' house to live with his future wife there, following the traditional norm.

Let us not forget Mustafa.
The Israeli army has never been held accountable to the murder of Palestinian civilians. It continues to act with impunity and demonstrates a complete disregard for Palestinian suffering. 10 days after Mustafa's murder, three Israeli jeeps surrounded his parents' house, and 25 soldiers got out with the pretense to check the license of the car outside, but with the intention to arrest Mustafa's younger twin brothers. Mustafa's father shouted at them that if any arrests were to take place it would be over his dead body. The soldiers left. Let us not forget also the army spraying skunk water, firing tear gas, arresting activists, and beating people up on the day of Mustafa's funeral.

Mustafa was killed on the 24th anniversary of the first Intifada, and the second anniversary of Nabi Saleh's popular resistance protests, which started after settlers from the neighboring illegal settlement of Halamish- built upon the village's land- further expropriated the main spring, al-Kaws.

Let us not forget Mustafa. His murder only succeeded in strengthening the resolve of the Palestinians against occupation. Israel kills one, and a 100 rise up in his or her place.

We ask you to show your support and love to Mustafa's family by writing messages of solidarity addressed to them either through this link or to this email: lifeonbirzeitcampus@gmail.com. There are no guidelines to this, other than including your name and the city or country you are from.

Let us not forget Mustafa.

Happy New Year

I don't know what I can write about the year 2011 that hasn't been written about here on the blog. My articles started to get published, I graduated, I found work, I met the most amazing, passionate young people who are more than friends and which our shared experiences created an unbreakable special bond, I fell in love with a whole village and its inhabitants, I witnessed the murder of a young man by the Israeli occupation, I carried home with me the disgusting skunk smell, I've laughed and cried with strangers, and so on.

A new year doesn't mean much to me. It's just another day in the calendar, always on its cyclic move. I haven't been able to write beautiful posts about how this year personally affected me like how my dear friends have in this one or that. I can however say with full confidence, this is just the beginning. It's only the start. Our voices have reached out to so many. And we are such few in number. There is reason to be optimistic, reason to be hopeful, reason to believe my generation WILL make a change.

May 2012 usher in a stronger permanent wave of popular resistance, an actual representative Palestinian government, the irrelevance of Hamas and Fateh, more BDS successes, the elimination of normalization events, the release of all Palestinian prisoners, justice to Mustafa Tamimi's family and the thousands before him, the right of return for the millions of Palestinian refugees, and accountability that will bring Israel down to its knees. Happy New Year!

To Mustafa's Mother

Below is a letter written by one of the organizers of the Nabi Saleh popular protests, Bassem Tamimi. Bassem has been behind Israeli bars for the past nine months on ridiculous charges, and wrote this letter to the mother of Mustafa Tamimi, the martyr who was shot from a very close distance by a tear gas canister in his face a week ago.



In the name of God the Merciful the Compassionate.
O beautiful mothers who have waited for their sons to return,
My beautiful sisters, which gave to the country what is most dear to the heart,
O most beautiful women dressed in mourning cloth,
For what do you want to sing and cry, what do you want of respect, loyalty, and order,
For when he gave the most precious, when the tender met the land’s call,
With tournament and sacrifice,
His soul went up to the heavens in splendor.
For this is the way of the free among the strain of the martyrs,
Of those who proceeded on the altar of freedom and redemption for Palestine.
For our belle Palestine the spirit pays a tribute and drenches the land with blood.
We comfort you and mourn you because you left like folding clouds in the sky,
So be our symbol who we seek its light.
Perhaps, my dearest sister, perhaps you are grasped in the perturbing sadness and in the numbness wounds,
Our blood defiled above the ground is a rose shining from behind the blockade,
A rose that lights the way for us to renew our path.
Mustafa’s blood writes; on the ground pregnant with the beloved; the opening anthem,
It is for Palestine that martyr fell after martyr, and when his hand captured the stone of the intifada (uprising) and victory,
The spirit of Umm Nizar ululated and Bakr sang.
We wont write about him or enrich him. As the doors of the heart leading to him and the reluctance of his songs with their hopes and aspirations announces his presence in us, and seek our presence in him.
On the walls we see his leaps,
On the ground we trace his footsteps,
In the fields we hear his whispering cry followed by a blessed stone that calls upon him,
We will remember him and will not forget him as he enriches us and we don’t enrich him.
God will bring him closer and purify him and grant him long life.
On our land pigmented with blood, in the village of redemption, the town of martyrs, the village of Nabi Saleh, the intifada of loyalty (uprising) opens the death laden.
Barbarians scatter snipers, invaders of death on the place and on the living,
To steal life and spread grief.
Earth groaned, when the murderers instilled the gas canister in Mustafa’s fragile flesh.
Leading his soul to the sky, to befriend the companions and prophets.
The seventh sky lights up and our mother, earth opens her heart to embrace his pure body to scent its ground with his blood.
On this day resistance is announced on the slopes, on the hills singing songs of revolutionaries for the land,
The voice announcing “we die for our people to live, Long live Palestine!”.
Do not shed tears Umm Mustafa, his soul embraces us to the spectra of freedom,
Through his eyes we will look on the horizon to our victory, the victory of blood over the sword. Dearest sister, it’s not easy or easy to self stand in such a situation, but with patience and faith you will come out from the circle of grief to reverence and honor that befit the presence of a martyr. So sleep in the skies Mustafa, and send Umm Nizar my greeting and tell her verily here we stay, like our olives trees resisting until we continue to be. Until we write the statement of victory, of a long desired life – humanitarian up to all the meanings of living of freedom, democracy, justice, human dignity and peace.
‘Peace be upon you the day you were born, the day you departed and the day you will be alive again’.
Greetings of peace to your mother and your father.
With warmth in my heart I dedicate this to you and to them.
Bassem Tamimi
Ofer prison.



إلى آم المصطفى
بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم
يا أجمل الأمهات التي انتظرت ابنها وعاد يا أجمل الأخوات التي أعطت للوطن مهجة الفؤاد يا أجمل النساء التي ما نزوت في ثياب الحداد لكي ما تشائين من الغناء ومن البكاء لكي ما تشائين من الاحترام والوفاء ولكي ما تشائين من المديح ومن الثناء فحين أعطى أجزل العطاء لبى للأرض النداء بالبطولة والفداء فصعدت روحه إلى العلياء في بهاء فهذا نهج الأحرار من سلالة الشهداء من سبقوه ع…لى مذبح الحرية والفداء لا اجل فلسطيننا الحسناء تدفع الروح مهرا وتسقي الأرض بالدماء فلنا فيك العزاء لأنك رحلت كالغيم
الملفع في السماء فكن شراعنا الذي نلتمس به الضياء
.
لعلك يا أخت الروح في يقضة الحزن وغفوة الجراح ودمنا المستباح فوق الأرض وردة تلمع من خلف الحصار يضئ لنا الطريق لنجدد المسار فدم المصطفى يكتب على الأرض الحبلى بالأحباب الإحياء سفرا يقرأ فيه افتتاح النشيد فلأجل فلسطين سقط من الشهيد تلو الشهيد وحين قبضت كفه على حجرا الانتفاضة والنصر زغردت له روح ام نزار وغنى بكر لن نكتب عنه أو نرثيه فأبواب القلب تفضى إليه وتردد أغانيه وتحمل أماله وأمانيه تعلن حضوره فينا وتبحث عن حضورنا فيه فنرى على السور قفزته وعلى للأرض خطوته ونسمع في المدى صرخته حين يتبعه حجرا مباركا ينشده ويناديه سنذكره ولن ننساه فهو الذي يرثينا ولا نرثيه فالله يقربه
ويصطفيه وامتداد الحياة يجزيه
.
على راضنا المخضبة بدمنا في قرية الفداء بلدة الشهداء النبي صالح انتفاضة الوفاء تفتح كوة من حُسن الموت المحمل برابرة العصر
ليوزع قناصة الغزاة الموت على المكان والإنسان ليهب الحياة وترسيخ المعاناة تراب يئن يخضبه دم مصطفى حين يغرس ألقتله قنبلة الغاز في لحمه الطري فتصعد روحه إلى العلياء رفيق الصديقين والأنبياء يضئ سمائنا السابعة وتفتح أمنا الأرض قلبها لا احتضان طهر جسده لتعطر التراب من مسك دمه وفي يومه صهلت جيادنا المسرجة بالمقاومة على الروابي والسفوح تغني للأرض أغاني الثوار وتعلن بصوت دمه نموت ليعيش شعبنا وتحيا فلسطين
لا تبكيه يا أم مصطفى فروحه تأخدنا لنعانق أطياف حريتنا الحائرة ونطل من فضاء عينيه على أفق انتصارنا انتصار الدم على السيف فيا أخت الروح ليس الأمر سهلا ولا هينا على النفس الوقوف في مثل هذا الموقف ولكن بالصبر والإيمان نخرج من دائرة الحزن والفجيعة إلى مستوى الإجلال والإكرام الذي يليق بحضرة الدم والشهداء فنم في عليائك قرير العين يا حمامة سلامنا وأقرئ آم نزار مني السلام واخبرها إنا باقون هنا كأشجار زيتوننا نقاوم حتى نستمر في إن نكون ولنكتب في الأحمر القاني بيان انتصارنا للحياة المشتهاة التي نستحقها من بابها الإنساني صعودا إلى كل المعاني الحية من الحرية
والديمقراطية والعدالة والكرامة الإنسانية والسلام .
سلام عليك يوم ولدت ويوم رحلت ويوم تبعث حيا والسلام.
وسلام على أمك وأبيك ودفئ قلبي اهديهم وأهديك
.
باسم التميمي
سجن عوفر

Israeli Soldiers' Savagery at Mustafa Tamimi's Funeral

As posted on Electronic Intifada

Video:

For an introduction, I recommend reading the following links: Mourning Mustafa Tamimi as Israeli Soldiers Escalate Violence, and Funeral of Murdered Mustafa Tamimi Ends in More IOF Violence and Savagery.

Every time I look at the picture below, I want to laugh. Call it hysteria, call it exhaustion, call it being subjected to so many cruel emotions over the past few days after witnessing the murder of a true freedom fighter.

The pictures shows Tasneem H, @Tweet_Palestine, @_Watan, and myself among others in a human pile on the ground with Israeli soldiers beating us as we tried to prevent them from arresting us and the other activists we were protecting with our bodies. The following is our testimonies, collected and edited by me.

Me:

The soldiers were in their place, watching us advance. They didn’t fire tear gas; their presence itself was enough provocation. We stood in front of them, and began shouting at each of the soldiers, going from face to face with Mustafa Tamimi’s poster held up by our hands.

Our grief spilled into rage.

“Which one of you killed Mustafa?”

“Which one of you did it?”

“Which one of you has the courage to look in his sister’s eyes, the one you prevented from seeing him?”

“WHICH ONE OF YOU MURDERED HIM?”

@_Watan:

The question was asked a million times that day, and was answered by tons of tear gas, sound bombs, and physical violence. They were afraid of the question, terrified to look at the eyes of the man they killed, and we were not going to be silent any more.

Me:

Chants of “Murderers! Murderers! Murderers!” and then “Animals! Animals! Animals!” The soldiers backed away from us a few steps, perturbed. We wouldn’t let them go that easily. We followed them.

Tasneem H:

We were simply using our words…Our words and our voices of truth to question the Israeli soldiers of the murder of Mustafa Tamimi. I took out a poster with a photo of Mustafa and asked the soldier to look at the man they were responsible for murdering. I wondered to myself if their conscience would be moved at all by this. Did they still have a conscience?

Me:

I had the picture of Mustafa and was demanding them to look at it, to look at Mustafa’s eyes, the man they killed so heartlessly. One of the soldiers grabbed the picture from me and balled it in his fist. I went berserk.

“Give it back!” I shrieked. “Give it back, you animal! You’re not human give it back!” I grabbed at his hand and he shoved me vehemently. I tried again and he threw the torn picture on the ground.

@Tweet_Palestine:

All of a sudden one of them jumped on Jonathan [Pollack] who was standing next to us. They tried to arrest him and we all jumped on him trying to keep the soldiers from taking him. The soldiers kept hitting us everywhere. Then one of them tried to choke Jonathan until he fainted and was carried away.

@_watan:

They were hitting him, and choking him. The rest of the girls and I ran toward them, trying to save him from their murderous hands. His face was starting to get blue and then he passed out, and still the soldier wouldn’t let go of him. Luckily we were able to get him out just in time to save him from being killed too.

Me:

We were over the metal rink, on the road now. The spring was only across the road. The soldiers began shoving and pushing us, as we continued to demand justice for Mustafa’s murder. Sound bombs were thrown right next to us. Then we saw one international activist lying face down on the ground, his hands tied behind him. We tried to stop the soldiers from taking him with our bodies. They shoved us roughly. We screamed back. I felt a rifle butt hit me on the forehead. The commander came over and said we had five minutes to clear off. I told him we wouldn’t and for them to clear off. He pointed at me and ordered for my arrest. I felt myself being dragged by two soldiers and my biggest fear was that if my parents found out I could kiss this world goodbye. Then I felt someone grab my legs, someone else around my waist, and we all collapsed to the ground. The girls, my fellow activists, my sisters were clinging to me as hard as they could, preventing the soldiers from taking me.

@_Watan:

I turned over to see my friend Linah in the hands of two soldiers. They were arresting her, and the only thing I could remember next was holding her in my arms, and I was not alone…the girls gathered making a human pile, each holding the other so strongly to save her from being arrested.

Me:

More soldiers came and began to drag the other girls away. There was a flurry of movement and another international activist was pinned to the ground by the soldiers. We grabbed him as he became buried in our human pile. He clung to my leg. One of my arms was around my friend’s back, the other clutching another friend’s shoulder. My waist and legs were gripped by them tightly. The soldiers hit my friend on her head. One repeatedly slammed his knee in the back of the international activist we were shielding.

@_Watan:

The soldiers pushed us and we fell on the ground. We were literally on top of each other, yet we were not willing to let go. We were hit and kicked everywhere and one of them hit me on the head with the back of his gun.

@Tweet_Palestine:

We lay on the ground holding him while the soldiers hit us in every direction. I remember Linah next to me screaming the same words over and over again “You will not take any of us.” Another girl was screaming “This is for Mustafa, stay strong!” I had lost my voice by then and couldn’t scream but I moaned and cried as one soldier was trying to break my fingers away from one of the Israeli activists buried within us. Another soldier pulled me from my kuffiyeh and choked me with it, and then I let go of the activist because the pain was just too strong. I watched the soldiers pulling him away from me, dragging him on the street while one soldier put his leg above his head.

@_Watan:

They tried to choke her with her own kuffiyeh.

@Tweet_Palestine:

In a split second another soldier screamed “Take this girl!” and someone pulled my legs and I was dragged away from the girls. I knew that it meant it was over: they were going to arrest me. I was on the ground when I heard the girls screaming out my name and I then knew I was safe, I knew they would not let the soldiers take me. One soldier had his leg on me crushing me to the ground and the girls jumped on the soldiers and tried to free me.

Tasneem H:

Our human barrier made things difficult for the Israelis. We were in their way. They began violently pulling, kicking and punching the girls and I as well as the protesters they tried to arrest. I heard cries of anguish as the Israelis tried to wrench the human barrier. And in between these cries of anguish, you could still hear the words of truth continuing to be spoken by each and every single one of us.

Me:

>We were screaming and kept holding on to each other, our bodies pretzeled against each other. The soldiers were beating us as we lay there, and my anger was spent. I whispered, “You have no humanity” followed by repeating, “You’re not taking any one” over and over again.

“You are not gonna take any one of us.” Her voice broke my heart yet also made it stronger. We were sad, angry, hurt, tired, and beaten up. But we were also a pile of determination and each time they hit us we became stronger. I remember the face of the international activist we were shielding. He was looking at us as if we were the safest place on earth. It was us vs. Mustafa’s killers, Truth vs. Violence.

Me:

I looked up and realized more people from our side had arrived. They tried to talk to the soldiers. We finally but very carefully and gingerly picked ourselves off the ground as the people formed a human wall around us and we jumped over the metal rink. Another international activist was getting arrested. We jumped back and tried to grab him but we were pushed back with even more brutal force. The commander kept telling us to go. He added the word “please”. My hands were bruised, my knuckles were blue and bleeding, my body was aching. I was shaking all over. Mustafa’s picture was still in my hand. We turned back to make the long trek up the hill, and they fired tear gas aimed at our bodies to hinder us.

@Tweet_Palestine:

I ran as fast as I could then fell to the ground.

Me:

@Tweet_Palestine fainted. The men carried her and went down to the ambulance on the road.

@_Watan:

We climbed back up the hill, carrying the unanswered question and more determined than ever to continue and bring Justice to Mustafa.

@Tweet_Palestine:

I saw friendly faces around me. I realized I had fainted in the ambulance. I was terrified; what if they took any of the other girls? I should stand on my feet and go back but somehow my brain was no longer in control of my body. I was taken to one of the warm houses in Nabi Saleh, the same house I was taken to when I was attacked the last time. I just wanted to know if the girls were safe and I kept asking “Where is Linah where is @_Watan? Did they take them what happened where are they?” and then they came in from the front door and we hugged each other and started crying uncontrollably.

Tasneem H:

I still can’t comprehend why arrests were made and violence was used by the Israelis. Were our words of truth threatening to them? Were our words of truth threatening their security? Did our words of truth penetrate so deep into their conscience that caused insecurity within themselves?

Me:

They couldn’t even respect Mustafa in his death with this show of savagery.

@Tweet_Palestine:

What had we done I thought. Did it make any difference in the world when we asked these soldiers who killed Mustafa? I don’t know if it did but I felt that my voice again was my only weapon and even if these soldiers did not feel anything even if they beat me up, still I did something I raised my voice. I refused to be silenced by their guns, I refused to be silenced by the Canister that silenced Mustafa. The Israeli army and government and the Zionist movement need to understand that their weapons of murder and their methods of torture will not stop us, will not silence us. We will keep screaming and fighting and as hard as they try to silence us they will never succeed.