‘We’re taking responsibility’: Sixty teens announce refusal to serve in Israeli armyDozens of Israeli teens sign public letter objecting to military service over Israel's policies of apartheid, neoliberalism, and denial of the Nakba.
Conscientious objectors
Shahar Peretz (left) and Daniel Peldi at an anti-annexation protest in
the city of Rosh Ha'ayin June 2020. (Oren Ziv)
Some of
the signatories are expected to appear before the IDF conscientious
objectors’ committee and be sent to military prison, while others
have found ways to avoid army service. Among the signatories is
Hallel Rabin, who was released from prison in November 2020 after
serving 56 days
behind bars. A number of the signatories also signed
an open letter
last June demanding that Israel stop the annexation of the West
Bank.
‘Who are we actually protecting?’
Israelis
have published a number of refusal letters ever since Israel took
control of the occupied territories in 1967. While for decades the
letters predominantly referred to opposing service in the occupied
territories specifically, the last two Shministim Letters, published
in 2001 and 2005, respectively, included signatories who refused to
serve in the army altogether.
“The
reality is that the army commits war crimes on a daily basis — this
is a reality I cannot stand behind, and I feel I must shout as loud
as I can that the occupation is never justified,” says Neve Shabtai
Levin, 16, from Hod Hasharon. Levin, now in 11th grade, plans to
refuse army service after graduation, even if it means going to
prison.
“The
desire not to enlist in the IDF is something I have been thinking
about since I was eight,” Levin continues. “I did not know there was
an option to refuse until around last year, when I spoke to people
about not wanting to enlist, and they asked me if I was planning to
refuse. I began to do some research, and that’s how I got to the
letter.”
Levin adds
that he signed the letter “because I believe it can do good and
hopefully reach out to teenagers who, like me, do not want to enlist
but do not know about the option, or will raise questions for them.”
Shahar Peretz, 18, from Kfar
Yona, is planning on refusing this summer. “For me, the letter is
addressed to teenagers, to those who are going to enlist in another
year or those who have already enlisted,” she says. “The point is to
reach out to those who are now wearing uniforms and are actually on
the ground occupying a civilian population, and to provide them with
a mirror that will make them ask questions such as ‘who am I
serving? What is the result of the decision to enlist? What
interests am I serving? Who are we actually protecting when we wear
uniforms, hold weapons, and detain Palestinians at checkpoints,
invade houses, or arrest children?’”
Peretz recalls her own
experiences that changed her thinking around enlistment: “[My]
encounter with Palestinians in summer camps was the first time I was
personally and humanly exposed to the occupation. After meeting
them, I realized that the army is a big part of this equation, in
its influence over the lives of Palestinians under Israeli rule.
This led me to understand that I am not prepared to take a direct or
indirect part in the occupation of millions of people.”
Yael Amber, 19, from Hod
Hasharon, is mindful of the difficulties her peers may encounter
with such a decision. “The letter is not a personal criticism of
18-year-old boys and girls who enlist. Refusing to enlist is very
complicated, and in many ways it is a privilege. The letter is a
call to action for young people prior to enlistment, but it is
mainly a demand for [young people] to take a critical look at a
system that requires us to take part in immoral acts toward another
people.”
Amber, who
was discharged from the army on medical grounds, now lives in
Jerusalem and volunteers in the civil service. “I have quite a few
friends who oppose the occupation, define themselves as left-wing,
and still serve in the army. This is not a criticism of people, but
of a system that puts 18-year-olds in such a position, which does
not leave [them] too many choices.”
While
conscientious objection has historically been understood as a
decision to go to prison, the signatories emphasize that there are
various methods that one can refuse, and that finding ways to eschew
military service can itself be considered a form of refusal. “We
understand that going to jail is a price that not everyone has the
privilege of paying, both on a material level, time, and criticism
from one’s surroundings,” Amber says.
‘Part of the legacy of the Nakba’
The
signatories note that they hope the political atmosphere created in
recent months by the nationwide anti-Netanyahu protests — known as
the “Balfour protests” for the street address of the Prime
Minister’s Residence in Jerusalem — will allow them to talk about
the occupation.
“It’s the
best momentum,” says Amber. “We have the infrastructure of Balfour,
the beginning of change, and this generation is proving its
political potential. We thought about it a lot in the letter — there
is a group that is very interested in politics, but how do you get
them to think about the occupation?”
Levin also
believes that it is possible to appeal to young Israelis,
particularly those who go to the anti-Bibi protests. “With all the
talk about corruption and the social structure of the country, we
must not forget that the foundations here are rotten. Many say the
military is an important process [Israelis] go through, that it will
make you feel like you are part of and contributing to the country.
But it is not really any of these things. The army forces
18-year-olds to commit war crimes. The army makes people see
Palestinians as enemies, as a target that should be harmed.”
As the
students emphasize in the letter, the act of refusal is intended to
assert their responsibility to their fellow Israelis rather than
disengage from them. “It is much more convenient not to think about
the occupation and the Palestinians,” says Amber. “[But] Writing the
letter and making this kind of discourse accessible is a service to
my society. If I wanted to be different or did not care, I would not
choose to put myself in a public position that receives a lot of
criticism. We all pay a certain price because we care.”
“This is
activism that comes from a place of solidarity,” echoes Daniel Paldi,
18, who plans to appear before the conscientious objectors’
committee. “Although the letter is first and foremost an act of
protest against occupation, racism, and militarism, it is
accessible. We want to make the refusal less taboo.” Paldi notes
that if the committee rejects his request, he is willing to sit in
jail.
“We tried
not to demonize either side, including the soldiers, who, in all of
its absurdity, are our friends or people our age,” he notes. “We
believe that the first step in any process is the recognition of the
issues that are not discussed in Israeli society.”
The
signatories of the latest Shministim Letter differed from previous
versions in that they touched on one of the most sensitive subjects
in Israeli history: the expulsion and flight of Palestinians during
the Nakba in 1948. “The message of the letter is to take
responsibility for the injustices we have committed, and to talk
about the Nakba and the end of the occupation,” says Shabtai Levy.
“It’s a discourse that has disappeared from the public sphere and
must come back.”
“It’s
impossible to talk about a peace agreement without understanding
that all this is a direct result of 1948,” Levy continued. “The
occupation of 1967 is part of the legacy of the Nakba. It’s all part
of the same manifestations of occupation, these are not different
things.”
Adding to
this point, Paldi concludes: “As long as we are the occupying side,
we must not determine the narrative of what does or doesn’t
constitute occupation or whether it began in 1967. In Israel,
language is political. The prohibition against saying ‘Nakba’ does
not refer to the word itself, but rather the erasure of history,
mourning, and pain.”
A
version of this article first appeared in Hebrew on Local Call. Read
it
here.
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