Comment l’industrie des droits de l’homme sabote la libération de la Palestine

Publié sur TeleSur
Traduction : Jean-Marie Flémal

A poster of the popular front for the liberation of Palestine (PELP) founded in 1967. pic.twitter.com/0YaSjWw6YI

— البتول علي (@batool_9) December 9, 2015

La création de l’Autorité palestinienne après la signature des accords de paix d’Oslo entre Israël et l’OLP a introduit des transformations structurelles dans la politique, la société et la lutte palestiniennes.

Le combat pour la libération s’est alors transformé en une quête diplomatique du statut d’État pour 22 pour 100 de la terre palestinienne ; la révolution était ainsi détournée et, progressivement, les masses palestiniennes étaient mises sur la touche de l’action politique en même temps que de l’espace public. Si la Première Intifada palestinienne avait représenté le point culminant de l’engagement populaire dans la politique de masse et l’action directe, les décennies qui ont suivi ont montré tout le contraire. Les gens ont été entraînés dans la marge, dépouillés de leur capacité d’action et transformés en spectateurs pendant qu’une petite élite négociait en leur nom tout en exploitant leurs sacrifices et en se faisant passer pour leur unique représentante légitime.

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How the Human Rights Industry Undermines Palestinian Liberation

in telesurtv.net

It has been the liberal discourse of human rights that precipitated the move from decolonial struggle into a rights based one.

The establishment of the Palestinian Authority following the signing of the Oslo peace accords between Israel and the PLO ushered structural transformations in Palestinian politics, society, and struggle.

The struggle for liberation was then transformed into a diplomatic quest for statehood on 22 percent of Palestinian land; the revolution was hijacked and the Palestinian masses were gradually sidelined from political action and public space altogether. If the first Palestinian Intifada had constituted the culmination of people’s engagement in mass politics and direct action, the decades that succeeded it saw the exact opposite. People were dragged to the margins, stripped of their agency, and turned into spectators as a small elite was negotiating on their behalf by exploiting their sacrifices and claiming to be their sole legitimate representative.

¿SENTENCIA DE MUERTE POR ENFRENTARSE A LOS CENSORES SIRIOS?

Traducción de Elena Cal Atán y Elisa Marvena
ORIGNAL

A los seres queridos de Bassel Khartabil se les sigue ocultando cualquier información sobre su paradero. A pesar de que se cree que el desarrollador de software palestino ha sido sentenciado a muerte en Siria, esto no ha sido confirmado oficialmente. Algunos rumores sugieren que la ejecución ya podría haber sido llevada a cabo.

La falta de información fidedigna está resultando extremadamente estresante para su mujer, Noura Ghazi.

“Esto perdiendo peso y mi cabello se cae” dice Ghazi. “Ni siquiera sé si está vivo o muerto”

A death sentence for battling Syria’s censors?

This photo of Bassel Khartabil wearing a Palestine-themed necklace is one of only a handful that Noura Ghazi has of her husband after the Syrian government confiscated their computers.

In Electronic Intifada

Bassel Khartabil’s loved ones have been kept in the dark about his fate. Although the Palestinian software developer is believed to have been sentenced to death in Syria, this has not been officially confirmed. Some rumors suggest that the execution has already been carried out.

Rebel against torture killed by Israel

in Electronic Intifada

Lafi Awad was not yet 10 when he began taking part in protests.

The protests erupted in 2004 as it became plain that the wall Israel was building in the West Bank would divide his home village of Budrus. His family were among the Palestinians whose olive trees were earmarked for destruction as Israel confiscated much of the village’s land.

Lafi belonged to a generation that was politicized by Israel’s wall. He felt an urgent need to take action against the dispossession it was causing.

He resisted the Israeli occupation by throwing stones. His determination to keep resisting cost him his life.

Refugee camp bids farewell to another young martyr

Najiyeh Zawahreh in the occupied West Bank’s Dheisheh refugee camp has spent much of the four decades since her marriage visiting her family in prison.

Her husband Ibrahim was repeatedly jailed in the 1970s and ’80s for his affiliation with the leftist Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine and his involvement in resistance to the Israeli occupation.

The same two charges would later be used to imprison many of the couple’s children.

Mother waits 36 years for Israel to return son’s body

in Electronic Intifada

For the last 36 years, Raoufa Khattab has refused to believe that her son Abd al-Rahman is dead until she sees his remains with her own eyes.

“They haven’t returned his body to us, so perhaps he’s alive, perhaps he’s in jail,” she keeps telling Ahmad, another son.

Ahmad was only 13 when his brother Abd al-Rahman was killed in April 1979 during an armed confrontation with Israeli forces near Bisan, a town located in the north of present-day Israel.

Abd al-Rahman led a small group of resistance fighters who tried to carry out an attack against an Israeli military post in the area.

After his killing, his body was transferred to one of Israel’s “cemeteries of numbers,” where Palestinian combatants are buried in secret and are identified only by numbers etched on metal plates. Israel has designated these cemeteries as closed military zones.