Palestinian-Americans: Banned from Israel (and Palestine too)

Basem Awad
Palestinian-Americans: Banned from Israel (and Palestine too)
Whenever I am at Israel's Ben Gurion Airport or any of the border crossings between Israel and Egypt and Jordan, the ugly reality of the state of Israel jumps out at me in a very disturbing way. There I am, a Palestinian-American, born in Jerusalem, having lived here more than half of my life, and I am questioned by the border officials in a tone that makes me feel like a criminal.
"What are you doing in Israel? How long do you plan to stay? Who do you know here? What do you abroad? What does the organization you work for do? What are your parents doing here?"
I want to tell the Israeli border guards "I am a Palestinian-American. My grandparents were born here. My father was born here. I was born here. This is my country too, and therefore, these questions are illegitimate. What if I asked you the same questions? You would find them absurd, as do I yours."
But what can I do? There is no space for discussion at the border. The guards are not working there because they want to understand Palestinians or discuss coexistence. Their priority is the all-justifying staple of Israeli life, security, of which Palestinians are the number one enemy. The guards do not care if I make a special effort to be nice to them. They don't realize that despite my instincts, I am trying to see the human in them. They might interpret that as a smart ploy to deceive them. There is so little humanity at the border.
I am a suspected terrorist from the moment I step foot on "Israeli" soil. In previous years, when I have arrived at the airport, I have been taken to a special room where an extra search of me or my bags has been common. I have also routinely waited for hours while border guards carry out an information-security check on me. After a big waste of time, I am allowed to leave their infernal control and greet my awaiting family.
The discrimination that I have experienced at the airport and borders is obvious and routine for every Palestinian who passes through Israel's borders. When they take me to the special room for the additional checks, I can jump right into an Arabic conversation with the travelers already waiting there. They usually have Palestinian roots as well. Jewish Israelis and most foreigners with no Palestinian affiliations pass by border control without any difficulty, hardly realizing, or caring, that Palestinians and their friends are stopped and taken aside to suffer a humiliating search.
In recent months, Israel's discriminatory border-control policy towards anyone with Palestinian roots has intensified. People like me, who hold nothing other than an American or other foreign passport but have Palestinian roots, are now being denied entry into Israel.
My friend Marya is a Palestinian-American who has suffered this injustice twice. Like me, one of her parents is Palestinian and one of them is American. She has American citizenship only. I met Marya as she interned at the organization I am currently working for in Jerusalem. After taking a trip to Beirut last Spring, Marya traveled from there to Jordan. She hoped to cross back into Israel from there. But after two days of questioning and information-security checking at the border, the Israelis denied her entry.
Just two days ago, Marya tried to enter Israel once again, this time accompanied by her mother, who has Israeli citizenship. (Out of the more than 5 million Palestinians living in Palestine-Israel, more than one million of them have Israeli citizenship. They are Palestinians who remained within the Israeli borders between 1948 and 1967, and are referred to by Israel as Israeli Arabs). Marya was looking forward to having a pleasant time in Jerusalem with her mother, visiting friends and seeing the sights in Jerusalem and the area. They were hoping that they could forget about last time Marya tried to enter - that this new experience would make up for the last one.
But once again, Marya was denied entry even though her mother was allowed in. Marya was taken to a detention center in the airport where she had to stay for two nights, a guard watching the door to the room she was forced to stay in. Once, she asked the guard if she could go outside for some fresh air. The guard told her, "after lunch". After lunch, the guard ignored her pleas. Naturally, Marya had trouble being at peace while in the detention center. She couldn't relax and could hardly get any sleep. Marya was finally allowed to fly to Amman, Jordan and is now back in Dubai, United Arab Emirates, where she works. Her mother is in a sad hotel room in East Jerusalem.
Sad as it is, it would be one thing to know that Marya's experience was an exception, an odd, uncharacteristic fluke. But it is another thing to know that this experience is becoming the norm for Palestinian-Americans and other foreign nationals with Palestinian roots. Tens if not hundreds of thousands have been denied entry. This policy is ethnic discrimination, pure and simple. Veteran Israeli journalist Amira Hass calls it the "silent transfer", as it has forbidden thousands of Palestinian-Americans who lived, worked, and invested in the West Bank and Gaza Strip to continue living there. Do Jewish-Americans, Chinese-Americans, or any other ethnic-American suffer this sort of discrimination entering Israel? No. That is unless they tell the border guards they are coming to visit their friends in Ramallah, Tulkarem, Jenin, or Gaza.
What is Israel's reasoning for denying Marya? Her mother contacted several Israeli authorities, asking why they did not allow her to enter. Not one Israeli official could give her a straight, true answer. One of them said it was a mistake. Another said it was because she came to the border too late. These are lies. Maybe the officials are not telling the truth because they are in denial that the only reason that Israel does not let a quiet, peace-loving, optimistic young woman into its borders is that she is a dreaded Palestinian-American.
During her stay at the Ben Gurion Airport detention center, Marya received a phone call from the American Embassy in Tel Aviv. "We're sorry," they said, "but Israel has a sovereign right to deny entry to whoever they wish." But as Marya commented, that's bullshit. How would the US government react if France suddenly started refusing Jewish-Americans? It would throw a fit and Jewish-Americans would be officially invited by the French president the next day.
If you meet or know either of us, you know that Marya and I are not prone to violence or extremism in general and towards Israel in particular. If anything, we, as educated Palestinian-Americans who have an intimate knowledge of both cultures, can be seen as instruments of peace. Our treatment in this country always makes me consider: If Israel wants peace, why does it deny entry to potential peacemakers? And if I, a Palestinian-American with all the advantages I have had in life - an education focused on peace, a stable family life, a job, etc - begin to feel hatred towards Israel because of how it has treated me, then how does someone my age from a refugee camp in Jenin, Khan Younis, Beirut, or Amman feel? I write e-mails. What will they do?
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Basem Awad
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