It was to be his last day in Gaza, but Sagi Ifrach planted himself on the roof of the only home he has ever known yesterday morning and declared that it would take the entire Israeli army to move him.
His parents and siblings had left two days earlier, resigned to the futility of resisting Ariel Sharon’s determination to clear Jewish settlers out of the Gaza Strip in a move heralded as historic in many other places, but viewed as akin to treason in the settlements.
Ifrach (23) was determined not to go so quietly, as 3 000 troops and police moved on to the streets of the largest Gaza settlement, Neve Dek-alim, to clear out the remaining 350 families.
”We won’t give up without a struggle. The land of Israel is at stake,” he said. ”Generally we obey the law, but this law is anti-semitic. I won’t be coming down until they drag me off.”
Some of his friends joined him on the roof. Yaron Olami, a member of the council in the Israeli town of Herzelia, and Oren Hazan, the son of an Israeli MP, shouted down ringing declarations of defiance after painting slogans on the walls below: ”Sharon is a dictator” and ”Soldier, look into your heart’.”
But after five hours in the sun, a policeman shouted up to Ifrach and asked if he wouldn’t mind getting off the roof. The young man wrapped himself in the Israeli flag, began to weep and climbed down into the arms of a waiting soldier. The others followed in time.
It was a piece of theatre re-enacted in differing forms throughout much of Neve Dekalim on Wednesday as the settlers publicly displayed their grief at leaving their homes, and vented their anger at the prime minister, the army and anyone else they thought to blame. But almost all boarded the waiting buses without resistance and left Gaza for the last time. By nightfall, most families had departed.
There was almost no violence except when, for the second time this month, an Israeli took out his anger at ”Jews expelling Jews” by shooting Arabs.
Sharon condemned the murder of three Palestinians in the West Bank by a settler on Wednesday as an act of terror. Two weeks ago, an Israeli soldier shot dead four Arabs on a bus in protest at the Gaza withdrawal.
The killings went largely unnoticed in Neve Dekalim, where many families gathered after sunrise for a last breakfast in their gardens, taking in the warm Mediterranean air. Some were slightly surprised to still be there for a last lunch too, but things moved slowly as hundreds of militant young ultra-nationalists who infiltrated the settlement in recent weeks tried to blockade the streets by burning rubbish bins and threatening sabotage.
A resident who gave his name only as Michael appeared blind to the reality unfolding around him as he remonstrated with the young protesters.
”I’m trying to convince the youth not to burn the garbage. I was trying to tell them that we will continue to live here. I believe I will be here in a year and my children will marry in Neve Dekalim. And if I’m going to live here, we need somewhere to put our garbage,” he said. ”It’s a very difficult lesson we’re going through here, but the people who will come out stronger will be the people of Neve Dekalim. The soldier who carries out this order will come out a crushed man.”
The army and police trained for the pullout for weeks and the young militants were soon corralled around the settlement’s synagogue. Scores of those who ventured away were snatched and forced on to buses back to Israel.
The settlers tried a mix of pleading for compassion and insults to try to deter the security forces. A handful of elderly women wearing signs saying ”Destruction” were arrested after confronting the army, formally known as the Israel Defence Force, and denouncing it as the Israel Deportation Force. A girl in her early teens marched up to a policeman, Aryeh Stanger, and presented him with a teddy bear.
”Take that home and show it to your children and tell them what a crime you’re committing,” she said to the policeman’s blank stare.
Infuriated at his indifference, she started shouting ”kapo, kapo”, a reference to Jews forced to serve as orderlies in Nazi camps. Officer Stanger was unfazed.
”They like this Holocaust analogy. I think it’s a bit exaggerated,” he said.
A woman took on another policeman. ”You are expelling Jews for the sake of Sharon’s corruption,” she shouted.
”It’s for the sake of democracy,” the policeman replied.
”Even Hitler was elected,” she spat.
Shortly after noon, the security forces began moving into houses. The routine was the same in each case. A policeman knocked on the door and asked if the family was ready to leave peacefully. Behind him stood 16 other officers and soldiers to make clear that resistance would not work.
Most families decided that they had made their point by defying the Monday deadline to leave, and agreed to board the buses. They did not go quietly; there was much loud public weeping, a part of Jewish religious practice, and berating of the security forces.
At a few homes, the police had to kick in the door and push the family out, but there was no serious resistance.
Some exercised their frustration by ensuring that their homes would not be turned over to the Palestinians intact. One family took to their house with sledgehammers, smashing out the windows and frames, destroying the doors and breaking walls.
Sharon said on Wednesday he found the scenes ”heartbreaking” and appealed to them not to blame the security forces: ”Don’t make it harder for them, don’t harm them. I am responsible. Attack me.”
The settlers were happy to, but they were more welcoming of a last visit by Amram Mitzna, the ex-Labour party leader who campaigned at the last election on a platform of unilateral withdrawal from a small part of Gaza, and lost to Sharon, who said he would not give up one settlement.
”The settlers respect me and there’s no aggression against me because they say at least I was standing behind what I said from the beginning. Most people here have in mind they were cheated,” said Mitzna.
The police had been worried about the students at the Yamit Yeshiva, a religious school built in the shape of a Star of David. But those studying there, and scores of older Israelis camped at the site in solidarity, decided to go with dignity.
The rabbis led a prayer for the dead to mourn the destruction of Neve Dekalim as the death of a part of Israel. Then they led the way, carrying the Torah scrolls, the menorah and Israeli flags. The soldiers saw them on to the buses, waved goodbye and the Yamit Yeshiva was no more. – Guardian Unlimited Â