Read Online I Shall Not Hate: A Gaza Doctor's Journey by Izzeldin Abuelaish - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Izzeldin Abuelaish
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their lives. But like most wars, not much was accomplished in the Sinai War that would change the way of life in Gaza, except that it was a brutal episode that led to six months of occupation by Israel. And in the aftermath we formally came under Egyptian administration, a state of affairs that would last eleven years. (Later I would learn that it was during this war that the Egyptian leader, Gamal Abdel Nasser, rose to prominence and that this was also when the United States established itself as the chief negotiator in the Middle East.)
The Six Day War of 1967 was something very different. From my twelve-year-old perspective, it came out of nowhere. I was waiting impatiently for the grade six exam results to be posted at the school, as I wanted to see my name at the head of the class. But instead, my Palestinian teachers were so preoccupied by the growing tension between Egypt and Israel that they only posted a pass-or-fail list. Although there was always plenty of talk amongthe adults about avenging the 1948 Nakba, to me, a schoolboy who was forever on the hunt for a job that would pay cash or in-kind donations to feed my family, such talk was merely background noise. But then the whispering about war in the refugee camp turned into loud cheering that this war was going to be a total defeat of the Israelis.
It wasn’t. It started on June 5 and ended on June 10. In a mere six days, the Israelis destroyed the Egyptian air force before the planes even got off the ground and turned back the neighbouring armies of Egypt, Jordan, Syria and the Arab states of Iraq, Saudi Arabia, Sudan, Tunisia, Morocco and Algeria, all of whom had contributed arms or soldiers to the battle.
It was actually unfinished business that had led to the war. After the 1956 Sinai War, peacekeepers had been left behind to keep the warring factions apart. In May 1967, Gamal Abdel Nasser requested the withdrawal of the United Nations peacekeepers from Egyptian territory and the Gaza Strip, and closed the Straits of Tiran to any ship flying the Israeli flag or carrying materials that could be used for war. Arab countries fell in line to support the Egyptian initiative. Israel called up 70,000 reservists and its cabinet voted to launch an offensive, which led to a standoff of several weeks. Then full-out war began, and in an astonishingly small number of days, Israel had won—and had assumed control of the Sinai Peninsula, the Gaza Strip, the West Bank, East Jerusalem and the Golan Heights.
Although I wasn’t aware of it at the time, this disruption in my community was pivotal in various capitals around the world, the evidence being the number of names the war still goes by. The Arabic term is Harb 1967. The Hebrew is Milhemet Sheshet Ha-Yamim. The rest of the world, divided into supporters of one side or the other, calls it variously the 1967 Arab-Israeli War, the Third Arab-Israeli War, or a Naksah (setback).
The Six Day War affects the geopolitics of the region to this day. But it wasn’t those geopolitical consequences that made the war a crossing in my life. I was only twelve years old. The war wasn’t something that happened on a transistor radio or was described by way of the rumour mill at the refugee camp. It happened right in front of my eyes, and it looked like the end of the world to me.
Israeli tanks rolled right onto our street. The shelling, the shooting and the fires breaking out all over the camp were completely terrifying. Parents were fleeing, some leaving their children behind; there was chaos, noise, panic. Most of my family headed for a fruit farm in Beit Lahia, north of Jabalia Camp. Hundreds of others did the same, but when we got there, we realized that some of the children had become separated from their families and some family members hadn’t come at all. The effort to escape was so disjointed that some of my own brothers had been left behind. Parents, including my own, started screaming. There was absolute
The Six Day War of 1967 was something very different. From my twelve-year-old perspective, it came out of nowhere. I was waiting impatiently for the grade six exam results to be posted at the school, as I wanted to see my name at the head of the class. But instead, my Palestinian teachers were so preoccupied by the growing tension between Egypt and Israel that they only posted a pass-or-fail list. Although there was always plenty of talk amongthe adults about avenging the 1948 Nakba, to me, a schoolboy who was forever on the hunt for a job that would pay cash or in-kind donations to feed my family, such talk was merely background noise. But then the whispering about war in the refugee camp turned into loud cheering that this war was going to be a total defeat of the Israelis.
It wasn’t. It started on June 5 and ended on June 10. In a mere six days, the Israelis destroyed the Egyptian air force before the planes even got off the ground and turned back the neighbouring armies of Egypt, Jordan, Syria and the Arab states of Iraq, Saudi Arabia, Sudan, Tunisia, Morocco and Algeria, all of whom had contributed arms or soldiers to the battle.
It was actually unfinished business that had led to the war. After the 1956 Sinai War, peacekeepers had been left behind to keep the warring factions apart. In May 1967, Gamal Abdel Nasser requested the withdrawal of the United Nations peacekeepers from Egyptian territory and the Gaza Strip, and closed the Straits of Tiran to any ship flying the Israeli flag or carrying materials that could be used for war. Arab countries fell in line to support the Egyptian initiative. Israel called up 70,000 reservists and its cabinet voted to launch an offensive, which led to a standoff of several weeks. Then full-out war began, and in an astonishingly small number of days, Israel had won—and had assumed control of the Sinai Peninsula, the Gaza Strip, the West Bank, East Jerusalem and the Golan Heights.
Although I wasn’t aware of it at the time, this disruption in my community was pivotal in various capitals around the world, the evidence being the number of names the war still goes by. The Arabic term is Harb 1967. The Hebrew is Milhemet Sheshet Ha-Yamim. The rest of the world, divided into supporters of one side or the other, calls it variously the 1967 Arab-Israeli War, the Third Arab-Israeli War, or a Naksah (setback).
The Six Day War affects the geopolitics of the region to this day. But it wasn’t those geopolitical consequences that made the war a crossing in my life. I was only twelve years old. The war wasn’t something that happened on a transistor radio or was described by way of the rumour mill at the refugee camp. It happened right in front of my eyes, and it looked like the end of the world to me.
Israeli tanks rolled right onto our street. The shelling, the shooting and the fires breaking out all over the camp were completely terrifying. Parents were fleeing, some leaving their children behind; there was chaos, noise, panic. Most of my family headed for a fruit farm in Beit Lahia, north of Jabalia Camp. Hundreds of others did the same, but when we got there, we realized that some of the children had become separated from their families and some family members hadn’t come at all. The effort to escape was so disjointed that some of my own brothers had been left behind. Parents, including my own, started screaming. There was absolute
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