Website policy

We provide links to articles we think will be of interest to our supporters. We are sympathetic to much of the content of what we post, but not to everything. The fact that something has been linked to here does not necessarily mean that we endorse the views expressed in it.


BSST is the leading charity focusing on small-scale grass roots cross community, anti poverty and humanitarian projects in Israel/Palestine

JfJfP comments


06 May: Tair Kaminer starts her fifth spell in gaol. Send messages of support via Reuven Kaminer

04 May: Against the resort to denigration of Israel’s critics


23 Dec: JfJfP policy statement on BDS

14 Nov: Letter to the Guardian about the Board of Deputies

11 Nov: UK ban on visiting Palestinian mental health workers

20 Oct: letter in the Guardian

13 Sep: Rosh Hashanah greetings

21 Aug: JfJfP on Jeremy Corbyn

29 July: Letter to Evening Standard about its shoddy reporting

24 April: Letter to FIFA about Israeli football

15 April: Letter re Ed Miliband and Israel

11 Jan: Letter to the Guardian in response to Jonathan Freedland on Charlie Hebdo


15 Dec: Chanukah: Celebrating the miracle of holy oil not military power

1 Dec: Executive statement on bill to make Israel the nation state of the Jewish people

25 Nov: Submission to All-Party Parliamentary Group Against Antisemitism

7 Sept: JfJfP Executive statement on Antisemitism

3 Aug: Urgent disclaimer

19 June Statement on the three kidnapped teenagers

25 April: Exec statement on Yarmouk

28 Mar: EJJP letter in support of Dutch pension fund PGGM's decision to divest from Israeli banks

24 Jan: Support for Riba resolution

16 Jan: EJJP lobbies EU in support of the EU Commission Guidelines, Aug 2013–Jan 2014


29 November: JfJfP, with many others, signs a "UK must protest at Bedouin expulsion" letter

November: Press release, letter to the Times and advert in the Independent on the Prawer Plan

September: Briefing note and leaflet on the Prawer Plan

September: JfJfP/EJJP on the EU guidelines with regard to Israel

14th June: JfJfP joins other organisations in protest to BBC

2nd June: A light unto nations? - a leaflet for distribution at the "Closer to Israel" rally in London

24 Jan: Letter re the 1923 San Remo convention

18 Jan: In Support of Bab al-Shams

17 Jan: Letter to Camden New Journal about Veolia

11 Jan: JfJfP supports public letter to President Obama

Comments in 2012 and 2011



I took part in a cruel occupation

A left-wing Israeli protester stands next to Israeli riot police [what’s with the masks?] at an anti-occupation demonstration in the West Bank, April 1, 2016. Photo by Oren Ziv/

From denial to recognition: There is no ‘humane’ occupation

As Israelis, as Jews, as human beings, we must confront the daily reality that takes place throughout the occupied territories. And in doing so, we must face ourselves.

By Frima (Merphie) Bubis, +972
October 8, 2017

As we began building our sukkot, the Yom Kippur reading from the Book of Jonah echoed in my head: “How can you be sleeping so soundly!” (Jonah 1:6). As though I myself heard the captain crying out, over the roar of the raging storm to the prophet fleeing his mission, as he hid away, asleep, below deck.

Other moments in the story flash through my mind, as though in fast-forward: how Jonah was thrown into the stormy sea and found himself “in the fish’s belly three days and three nights” (Jonah 2:1); how after he had agreed to his mission and went to the city of Nineveh to rebuke the people, he was surprised to see that “the people of Nineveh believed God. They proclaimed a fast, and great and small alike put on sackcloth” (Jonah 3:5); how the prophet refused to accept God’s mercy on the people of Nineveh and “begged for death, saying, ‘I would rather die than live’” (Jonah 4:8); and finally, how change came only at the last moment, after the Lord had rebuked him: “You cared about the plant, which you did not work for and which you did not grow, which appeared overnight and perished overnight. And should not I care about Nineveh, that great city!” (Jonah 4:10-11).

Perhaps only then did he finally see how blind he’d been, and finally understood his purpose and the true meaning of being a prophet.

Israeli soldiers arrest a Palestinian man during a raid on the West Bank city of Hebron, September 20, 2017. Photo by Wisam Hashlamoun/Flash90

Three years ago, I was still spending Yom Kippur in uniform. I served as a soldier in the Civil Administration — the military body that is entrusted with controlling and monitoring the Palestinian population in the occupied territories. I was part of a huge bureaucratic apparatus and saw how we soldiers frequently presented orders and enforced rule. I learned with time about the vast spectrum of everyday arbitrary actions that are concealed behind the headlines that have long since become familiar to us.

For example, I learned how we prevented dozens of Palestinian farmers from harvesting their olive trees because of their proximity to Israeli settlements. Or alternatively, a conversation that the brigadier general held with soldiers about the sacred concept of “proportionality” in order to re-emphasize the open-fire regulations after Palestinians were shot by mistake. I knew that the lives of hundreds of thousands under our full control were always subject to “security needs,” and I did not truly understand my role in all of it, what it was that I had done.

It is not the extraordinary events that now come to my mind, but rather the day-to-day ones. I remember the conversation I had in the operations room the morning after we imposed a closure on a village of about 3,000 Palestinians. While this closure was the answer to a Molotov cocktail thrown the previous night at an Israeli car, it meant the soldier at the checkpoint had a question: whether or not to let a couple and their ill son pass through to reach a clinic in the next village. To me, the answer was a clear yes, since this was exactly what we meant when we used the term “humanitarian cases,” which could enable us to allow movement even under closure. But the approval of the regional commander was needed. The brigadier general emphasized that while it was permissible this one time, we must examine every case individually — that we should not consider this decision a set policy.

It was hard to grasp that no occupation can be moral, orderly, or enlightened

The ancient city of Nineveh, the largest city in the world in the 7th century. Jonah had prophesised its destruction. The people of Nineveh repented their wickedness and God spared the city – making Jonah look a fool.

Our outward gaze comes so easily. We look at the “other,” at Nineveh, and we and judge his or her responsibility. We count sins so effortlessly. When I encountered cases of Jewish terrorism against Palestinians and their property, I knew how to identify clearly who were the perpetrators and who were their victims. When I processed complaints from Palestinians about violence from IDF soldiers, I could discern instantly who was in the wrong. It was much harder for me to identify my own responsibility, to understand that I was an active participant. It was much harder to grasp that no occupation can be moral, orderly, or enlightened. To discover that, indeed, the opposite is true. It is the very premise — that 18-year-old Israeli soldiers hold the power, through our laws and military orders, to administer the ‘civilian life’ of millions whose basic rights are denied — that is unacceptable.

In Professor Haviva Pedaya’s beautiful interpretation of Rabbi Israel Najara’s poem “I Will Go” (Ana Elech), she identifies Nineveh as “a focal point of evil, about which the alarm must be sounded, and which must be denied.” She defines the giant fish as a place that teaches Jonah “to be a man who does not refuse his mission.” She explains that Jonah’s mission was not to predict what was to come, and that the proof that he was a true prophet was not whether Nineveh would be destroyed and his vision realized. Rather, his role was to illustrate the choice between fleeing and fighting to change, to be “a messenger who brings the Word of God in order to rock the foundations and thereby create new possibilities.” This, according to Pedaya, is the essence of the Book of Jonah: the transformation of the heart from evil to righteous, from self-inflicted blindness to a willing gaze. The desire to be exposed, to expose and to become open to repent.

During the holiday of Sukkot, as the sukkah inspires us as a symbol of transience and uncertainty, we must not forget the decision of the Minister of Defence to impose an unusually long closure on the occupied territories by closing all the checkpoints between Israel and the West Bank. But the closure is not really imposed on the “territories”. It is imposed on the millions of Palestinian residents who live there, and on over 100,000 workers who are prevented from providing for their families. On the Eve of Sukkot, I read about this decision and thought about the shift between closure and repentance. Between denial of our role in this dark reality, and the possibility of rebirth, recognition, and choosing a different path.

I pray for us. I wish to remind God of the lesson he taught Jonah: see us, see the repentance we seek to create in this Land, and show mercy on Your creations.

Frima (Merphie) Bubis, 23, was raised in the religious-Zionist community, and today is the Jewish Diaspora coordinator for Breaking the Silence. This post was first published in Hebrew on Local Call.

Print Friendly

Comments are closed.