Tuesday morning, January 31, 2017, hundreds of soldiers and police stood in the cold rain, blocking the road to enforce evacuation notices that had been distributed throughout Amona. The road to the settlement was deserted. Unlike a month ago when hundreds of young people flocked there when the evacuation was first scheduled, now there were few non-residents in Amona.
When the expulsion was postponed, residents and government representatives worked out a deal to transfer half of the homes to an adjacent area. Politicians from the Likud and Jewish Home parties, including the leaders of both parties, promised to help save Amona and nine homes slated for destruction in Ofra.
Even some “left-of-centrists” questioned the wisdom of destroying Amona. The High Court agreed to wait 45 days. PM Netanyahu said that he needed to wait until Obama had left office and Trump was installed. Residents of Amona felt a sense of hope.
On Tuesday morning, however, that hope was quickly and harshly crushed when the IDF suddenly announced that the destruction would take place by evening, although there was an ongoing hearing in the High Court. The residents of Amona were stunned. The agreements they thought were valid turned out to be meaningless. There would be no alternative housing, despite agreements.
Nahum and Efrat Schwartz have a sheep farm that will be destroyed. A few years ago their large herd of goats was stolen one night by Arabs from Taibe, a town east of Amona. The Schwartz’s also raise berries. Other families planted vineyards, olive trees and fruit trees. Many built simple hothouses. It will all be destroyed. The IDF estimates that the expulsion and destruction will cost NIS 90 million. Looking out over the rocky hilltop, one wonders: Why? What purpose does this serve? The alienation is deep and bitter
"Private Palestinian land"? Well, actually, no. According to Yehuda Yifrah, legal expert at the Hebrew newspaper Makor Rishon, the Arab "owners" never existed, or could not be found.
Are the homes "illegal"? Although they didn't get building permits from the IDF Civil Administration, the land on which Amona was built had never been used, or claimed. And since the construction was initiated two decades ago, it has received government assistance for roads, electricity and infrastructure. So, why not allow them to remain? Shouldn't a Zionist government encourage such settlement activity?
At night, a loudspeaker announces evening lectures in the Bet Knesset. Scores of young people have slipped through the cordon of soldiers and police. Huddled against the cold, families invite them for hot meals, or whatever they can afford, a sandwich and tea, as they await their uncertain future, a future filled with broken promises.
Alerted to the impending evacuation, I arrived early Wednesday morning in nearby Ofra, but this time, despite my press credentials, I was not permitted to drive up to Amona. "Walk," I was told. It took me half an hour. Shiny new “concertina” (barbed wire) lined the road. Groups of border police stopped me, but let me pass and I finally arrived at about 8:30. About a hundred young people had gathered on the edge of the hill as the IDF and police forces gathered below. They had made their way up through the rocky fields during the night and before dawn.
Rocks and wood blocked the road and each caravan had improvised some form of resistance, such as closing shutters and nailing doors and windows shut from inside. The assault began around 9:30 as thousands of IDF border police and police moved slowly up the hill. A few youngsters threw stones, but they withdrew as the forces moved up the hill. It was sunny, but very windy and cold. By 10:30, the army controlled the entire community and the house-by-house evacuation began.
I stayed at the Schwartz's, with their extended family and friends, about 30 people. The youngest of their seven children were taken to their grandparents in Ofra. The doors and most windows were blocked by plywood, bookcases and closets. We were able to watch what was happening in the rest of Amona from a distance, but we were also able to see what was happening in real time via YNet, Walla, and other news teams. Throughout the day we watched the evacuations on the internet, which, for the most part, led by officers, seemed professional, although later on, cases of brutality were reported.
It was nothing like the violent assault on Amona in 2006. The live broadcasts showed determined resistance, with groups of young people sitting on the floor, linking arms, refusing to leave, and dragged out to buses. The protesters resisted, but were not violent. Some homeowners, like the Nazris, gave short emotional speeches, recounting their two decades in Amona. We watched in tears and waited, knowing that our little fortress home would soon be attacked. By late afternoon, all the windows were boarded up. There was no way to leave or enter.
By nightfall, only the Bet Knesset was still unconquered. Around 11pm, the first assault against us began. The police tried to break in, but were not successful and left. An hour later, they returned with more forces and smashed through the doorways. Young people sat on the floor, linking arms, resisting passively, but one by one they were dragged out under the watchful eyes of officers who ordered the soldiers and police not to act violently. They should be commended for their professionalism.
Yossi Dagan, head of the Shomron Regional Council, MK Betzalel Smotrich, and representatives from Ofra were there to prevent any police violence. There was a lot of crying and some harsh words, naturally, but by 1:00 am, the Schwartz’s home was broken and empty. It was over. Except for the Bet Knesset, Amona was no more.
Eventually the families will rebuild their lives and their homes, but the trauma will remain. The most precious thing has been shattered: trust -- trust that the government cares about its citizens, trust that their elected representatives stand by their words, trust in local Yesha Council leaders.
The resistance in Amona was not only to save homes and the community, but to oppose a rigged IDF and High Court judicial system [1]. It was to protest against broken promises. It was a resistance not against the “rule of law,” but for the rule of law that has sustained the Jewish people in Eretz Yisrael. It is a plea that decisions be made by the elected government by and for the people. The people of Amona will be moved, but their bravery and courage remain as an inspiration.
Amona’s resistance is and was a call for a Zionist ethos, for a return to the ideals upon which the State of Israel was founded. It is a call for justice and for real democracy. It is a call that everyone who cares about Israel should hear. Their struggle is ours.
Dr. Moshe Dann is a writer and journalist with a Ph.d in history, who lives in Jerusalem.
Footnote:
[1] Under Chief Justice Dorit Beinish's aegis (she served from 2006-2012), the courts made the game-changing and unwarranted decision that land in Judea and Samaria that is not recorded officially as privately owned land or as state land, is to be considered a priori Arab land (ed.).