Nora Lester Murad - The View From My Window in Palestine

International Complicity with Palestinian Oppression: Gaza’s Water Problem

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I write a lot about international aid to Palestine because, in my view, the international aid system and dependence on it has a lot to do with continued Palestinian oppression.

When I wrote about the recent UNICEF procurement scandal, I was mainly concerned with how donor funds end up in Israel, the entity responsible for the hardship that donor funds purport to ease. Then I read Electronic Intifada’s coverage of the same issue. The anonymous author took a different angle. S/he implied that desalination of Gaza’s water isn’t even the right approach! Although I have no expertise in water, I decided to try to understand it enough to provoke some more constructive discussion using the UNICEF story as an example — but only one of very many — of how messy aid and development are in Palestine.

First question: How did the decision get made to spend an estimated 386 million US dollars to remove salt from Gaza drinking water? UNICEF told me their decision to pursue a 10 million desalination project  was in response to a study released by the Palestinian Water Authority. In other words, they say they are responding to local, Palestinian decision-making about how to deal with Gaza’s water problems.

The Palestinian Water Authority kindly shared the truly impressive document, “The Gaza Emergency Technical Assistance Programme (GETAP) on Water Supply to the Gaza Strip, Component 1 – The Comparative Study of Options for an Additional Supply of Water for the Gaza Strip (CSO-G). The Updated Final Report [Report 7 of the CSO-G], 31 July 2011.” (I can email it to you upon request.) It describes the process and outcomes of a rapid planning process in 2011 that resulted in nine interrelated water project proposals. The report describes how all the options were generated, analyzed and categorized based on criteria. A follow-up conversation with David Phillips, the report’s writer, was also enlightening.

After a lot of thought, here’s where I now stand (until convinced otherwise):

First, the report says desalination is urgently needed. But everyone seems to agree that desalination would not be “urgently needed” if it weren’t for Israel’s continuing occupation and blockade and the non-conclusion of the permanent status negotiations about water. If there were no political problem, Gaza and Israel would share water resources fairly, and Gazans wouldn’t be drinking salty, polluted water. So, the desalination option  accommodates Israel’s siege — it is a bandage that does not address the root causes of the problem.

Moreover, desalinating water, while alleviating suffering of Palestinians, would also reduce pressure on Israel to comply with customary international water law and International Humanitarian Law. In fact, this is a major reason it was rejected, up till now, by Palestinians and why Israel has supported the desalination option. For these reasons, desalination is a politically costly option, and one that should only be pursued in the context of broad public input. Has there been broad public input? Not according to critics of the decision.

Second, large-scale desalination isn’t possible without guaranteed, uninterrupted energy, which doesn’t exist in Gaza (due to the Israeli siege). Therefore, the feasibility of the large-scale desalination option relies on costly, short-term “fixes” (e.g., generators) that may or may not be allowed in to Gaza by Israel. In the context of the Israeli siege on Gaza and Israel’s repeated destruction of Gazan infrastructure (including the donor-funded airport, power plant, schools, etc.), the desalination option is of questionable feasibility.

Third, there are many parties involved that have pre-existing interests in desalination and privatized approaches to water, including France, Israel and possibly Spain, making their support for desalination in Gaza a potential conflict of interest. Enhanced scrutiny to ensure integrity of all actors is critical.

Fourth, there is a dangerous pattern of inaction (or ineffective action) followed by a crisis, which is then used as an excuse for poor process. In the case of the final report that is now being used as the defining Palestinian policy document, it was an initiative of the consultant! The consultant approached Norway, and Norway funded it. The “opportunity” was offered to the Palestinian Authority. No matter how common this process is, it’s bad process and contradicts international best practices in local ownership of development. (I am completely impressed with the quality of the consultant’s work, but this doesn’t excuse the process.) Please note this: this pattern of crisis creation is built in to the “humanitarian” response system that claims to maintain credibility by staying out of politics. Humanitarian actors (who are funded, let’s be honest, by political interests, may see an impending problem, but they don’t get really involved until it’s gotten so bad that it’s a humanitarian crisis. Then, because there is a “crisis” there is justification for less local control, fast decision-making, and over-spending on “alleviation,” rather than a genuine political effort to resolve the underlying injustice.

Fifth, there is a serious distortion of the concept of “consensus.” In this case, as in all others I’ve studied, the internationals consider the Palestinian Authority as proxy for public support. But given that the PA has neither de jure nor de facto jurisdiction, and given that the PA was installed and is maintained by donors, and given that there are few if any real accountability mechanisms that people can use in relation to the PA, is the international position credible? In this case, like most others, it is hard to imagine there was very much of a local consensus process, when the final report isn’t even available in Arabic.

Sixth, I was pleased when the report identified the first screening criterion as “political” but disappointed when they elaborated it to mean: “Is this option available/feasible in the current political environment?” This is the HEART of the problem with humanitarian aid—they continue to put feasibility above rights. This makes humanitarian response complicit. If we desalinate because fair and legal sharing of resources isn’t acceptable to Israel, then we are enabling the current situation. No, not just enabling it, we are funding it! In fact, this report, like nearly all the other “technical” documents, identifies the problem as political but is not willing to focus their analysis and strategy on achieving a political solution. (But don’t we need a plan to follow when the political solutions fail, you ask? Yes, in theory, but when the political solutions fail for 64 years, then you have to ask if compromise isn’t part of the problem.)

Consider this: The report says, “The principles of customary international water law – which bind all States, whether or not they have signed specific conventions – support a case that the Gaza population should receive a much higher volume of fresh water from the resources shared with Israel. Unfortunately, however, no progress has been made in the negotiation arena on this matter, to date.” (p. 18) But does the report suggest specific ways to hold Israel accountable for its non-compliance with international customary water law? It does NOT!

And consider this circular logic that seems embedded in the report (and in the whole aid system): “We threw out the best option of fair allocation because it wasn’t feasible, so we’re instead accepting the desalination option (which was rejected in the past because it compromises our negotiating position), which relies on materials, parts and electricity that Israel may or may not allow into Gaza, which means that it too isn’t feasible.”

Where is the end to this craziness?

Israeli Mosquitoes and Palestinian Mosquitoes

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There are two kinds of mosquitoes.

One kind of mosquito bangs around the corners of my bedroom ceiling, pretending to be a victim of incarceration, but clearly enjoying the attention he’s getting by keeping me awake. This type of mosquito doesn’t have to bite; he just bangs around joyfully until I can’t tolerate his sleep deprivation torture tactics. Then, with great drama, he dive bombs next to my ear, sometimes even playing in my hair! I startle awake just in time to hear (but rarely see) him banging happily against the ceiling again, buzzing in very high volume. This kind of mosquito looks dumb but is incredibly smart. He harasses and harasses until I put the covers over my head and suffocate myself, self-torture. This is the Israeli mosquito.

The other kind of mosquito is Palestinian. He’s completely quiet and invisible. Then he bites. Hard! He bites over and over again, hurting me both physically and emotionally. Why does he bite me? Have I not given my life to the struggle for Palestinian rights? Am I not his greatest ally? Could he really be so stupid to seek to harm his own community?

Both Israeli and Palestinian mosquitoes infuriate me. I become violent. I become someone other than who I want to be. I forget my own priorities and options (I could move to another room?) and shamefully reduce myself to a shallow being with one focus in life – to kill the mosquito. When finally, I see him, laughing at me on the wall near my headboard, I reach for the towel I keep under my bed for this very purpose.

I whack the m-f mosquito and feel a rush of accomplishment, validation, and self-worth as the mosquito splats on my wall spreading my blood in a surprisingly pretty Rorschach pattern. But then, when I wipe off the blood, there is a large white spot where the cheap yellow paint has diluted with a few rubs of water on a tissue. And that’s when I realize that it’s three o’clock in the morning and I’m destroying my own property.

I do not know which kind of mosquito causes the huge, itchy, stinging welts that last for days all over my legs and arms. I suspect they both do.

I wake up exhausted. The mosquitoes have succeeded again in ruining life’s small pleasures and sapping the energy I have for all things other than revenge.

(Yes, in my world, all mosquitoes are male.)

Introducing My Co-Author, the Brilliant Danna Masad

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Today, a Palestinian police officer tried to give me a ticket because my car was too dirty. A little while later (presumably in protest), my car died just as I was at the checkpoint — my passport in the soldier’s hands!

But nothing can bring me down from the joy of seeing my friend (and my co-author of the soon-to-be-published-we-hope picture book, “Because it is Also Your Story”) in her first public exhibition called, “Experiment #1. She and three other brilliant young Palestinians make beautiful furniture  from trash.

 

Here is Danna  sitting on a stylish seat made of discarded packing crates and covered with an attractive cushion made by a local artisan.

 

High bar chair made of old water pipes with a woven seat made of discarded inner tubes.

  This is a very comfortable “beanbag” chair. It’s made from thrown-away blue jeans and stuffed with old, foam packing pellets.

 

The picture does not do this justice! It’s a lamp made from a broken shower head with a lamp shade made from a loofah.

 

A beautifully finished table made from a door they found in the street atop old water pipes.

 

Attractive sofa made of a discarded wood shipping box and cardboard tubes thrown aside in the industrial zone in Ramallah.

 

See more work of these “four emerging architects [who] came together to work on finding environmental solutions that hold social responsibility at their core.” They are on Facebook at ShamsArd Design Studio, the web at ShamsArd.wordpress.com and on Twitter at @ShamsArd or by email at ShamsArde@gmail.com.

Epilogue to the Vaccination Irritation: She was Brave

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Read part one of this post…

I am happy to report that my youngest daughter has a sore arm. Today, she took her last vaccination, bringing her up to date. Here’s how it came to pass….

Yesterday the school gave me two sheets of paper proving that my daughter was vaccinated twice in the first grade, not once. One time, the Health Committees in the Palestinian Authority came, and the second time, the Israeli Ministry of Health came. No one came when my daughter was in the second grade. (The school was right.)

The paper told me what my daughter was vaccinated against, not what vaccinations she took, so I had to have them translated into English and then cross check them against the vaccinations booklet. Surprise, surprise. EVERYTHING was written down! Even the ones given by the Health Committees of the Palestinian Authority (who the Israeli Ministry of Health said never write things down). They did write down the date and the vaccine. (The Health Committees were right.)

At that point, I realized that it was all a big mistake. My daughter was up to date. I was an idiot.

I called H from the Israeli Ministry of Health to put closure on the matter and she said, “It’s up to you as the mother to decide what vaccinations your daughter gets. I cannot force you.” I was confused again. I explained that in fact she had gotten the second grade shots in the first grade, so isn’t she in compliance? No, it turned out: “The Palestinian Authority uses a different combination of vaccines. The combination your daughter took does not include Pertussis or Whooping Cough. That what she’s missing.” “Is it important?” I asked, my heart sinking again. “Well, because the kids vaccinated by the Health Committees didn’t take it, we now have an outbreak of Whooping Cough.” (The Ministry of Health was right.)

That was enough for me. I woke my sleeping angel and we drove like the wind to Abu Tur. If you read my last post, you’ll know that the Israeli Ministry of Health vaccinated the girls in Samhar school today. It was my last chance this year to get the vaccine.

Abu Tur is a mixed Jewish-Arab neighborhood in West Jerusalem. I shouldn’t say “mixed,” I should say, “divided.” I followed the signs and found myself on the Jewish side. I asked several people where the Samhar School for Girls was, but no one knew. Then I asked them to point me to the Arab side of the neighborhood. They pointed down the hill.

I asked a ton of people but no one knew where that school was, but they kindly directly me to the girls school. Once there, I found out it was not Samhar, and one of the teachers said, “That’s in Tur.” “Isn’t this Tur?” I asked. “No, this is Abu Tur!” “Tur is on the other side of the Mount of Olives.

It was 9:55 am and the nurse was only to wait for me until 10 am. I was far, far, far beyond the palce where I was supposed to be. H didn’t answer her mobile phone. I felt angry at myself and guilty for dragging my daughter through the heat, without breakfast, without knowing where I was going.

I flew up the hill, past Jaffa Gate, past Damascus Gate, down into the valley next to the Russian church, up to the Mount of Olives, and down the other side. It still took ten minutes of going to the wrong place before I found the right place. “The nurse from the Ministry of Health is upstairs,” I was told. “The nurse from the Ministry of Health just left,” they told me at the top of the stairs. “But…but…but…”

Then I found the nurse, M, waiting for me in a little kitchen upstairs. She double-checked the vaccination booklet, prepared a combination vaccine that included Pertussis, and shot my daughter in the left arm. My angel didn’t make a sound.

My daughter, I think, is the only now third grader from her entire school (and perhaps from all the private schools in East Jerusalem) who is vaccinated for Whooping Cough. I can’t be sure of this, as I am not sure of anything.

If you ask, I might share  what this all means to me, a resident of East Jerusalem, a place that is part of the West Bank according to international law, that was illegally annexed by Israel, and which receives some benefits (like health coverage) but lots and lots of discrimination from Israel. I can’t write about it now because I’m simply too tired.

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