What PSG ban means to me

Individuals have been left feeling unrepresented and victimised by LUU

By Lucy Garbett

With Israeli Apartheid week drawing to a close and a banned Palestine Solidarity Group to contend with, I find myself dealing with domination. Again. Having lived in Jerusalem for most of my life,  being classed as an Arab, almost all my memories are of a domination of one type of people over another.

Aged four in an Israeli supermarket, my brother refused to speak Arabic to my mother because he said the looks he got made him scared. To any word of Arabic he would reply in a whisper: “you can’t speak Arabic here”. Aged six, I was continuously harassed at the airport and asked “what the purpose of my ‘visit’ to Israel was”. I replied somewhat naively at the time, saying that I actually lived in East Jerusalem, and no I did not speak Hebrew, but I did speak fluent English and Arabic - “with a bit of French too!”. They were not as impressed with my language skills as I was, and immediately I was sent to a special room to be searched for several hours. Aged 11, I watched a young man shot eight times in front of my eyes. They said he was a suicide bomber, but he had no weapons.
In early November this academic year, my flatmates and I went to a club. I was wearing nothing that would identify myself as a Palestinian, and my friends and I were approached by a guy and some of his friends. He was wearing a necklace with a Star of David. One of my friends

was also Jewish, and small talk conversation between them both ensued.
He then turned to me, and we began a Fresher’s style conversation: what University, what course? First year? Soon my reply was International Relations and Middle Eastern studies. He smiled and said, “Aha, so you know about Israel”. I smiled back and replied, “Yes, yes I do”. I hesitated for a second, awkward conversations have been a normal part of my life, but I decided to add: “ I live in Jerusalem actually”.
I remember his face suddenly beaming, and he said “Ohh! You’re Israeli! You’re Jewish!” I felt awkward, and I replied tentatively, “No actually, I’m not”. He then looked a little puzzled and said “But you’re pro-Israeli right?”. Again I hesitated, but went ahead and said “I’m half-English, half-Palestinian”.
His face registered internal error, he stepped back from me and replied “ Palestinians don’t exist, you don’t exist.” Then one of his friends lifted his sleeve and exposed a tattoo on his shoulder, he then shouted, “How do you like that?!”, while advancing towards my face. The tattoo was of a Jewish star, and the word “Israel” written in Hebrew. Most distressing of all, a cigarette was turned out on my arm. As I tried to escape, they shouted after me “Israel will crush you! The Jews will prevail!”
I did not take this and become a believer that all Jews would be racist or that it was a representative portrayal of Jewish thought at all. But a friend of mine also here in Leeds, also half-English, half-Palestinian was told that Palestinians were “a dirty little people, and would always be refugees”. There is a blurry line with this issue due to the ‘controversial’ nature of the topic, and many put it to one side and refuse to take it with the same seriousness as any other hate crime.
Currently, my mother owns a house in the neighbourhood of Shiekh Jarrah in Jerusalem, an area where Palestinians have been evicted from their homes and replaced with Israeli settlers. A few weeks ago, our house was stoned by the settlers in an attempt to get Arabs to leave the area. My mother, while leaving the house, was accosted by Jewish tourists visiting the houses and told, “This land was promised by God. So you should leave”. On March 6, 5,000 people consisting of Israeli peace activists and Palestinians demonstrated the evictions in the neighbourhood. The settlers had a counter-protest just outside our house. Signs read: “Sheikh Jarrah is for the Jews. Arabs get out!” and “Death to Arabs”.
I am frequently hearing calls and accusations of anti-semitism, but I hear nothing of the discrimination of the other side. Israeli Apartheid Week was important to me personally, but I believe it was also important so that finally the discrimination many of the students here in Leeds face could be addressed. Unfortunately the Union decided to ban the Palestine Solidarity Group, and despite other societies taking on the events planned for the week, they were also banned, thus successfully silencing Israeli Apartheid Week. But a problem never goes away if you shut your eyes and stuff your ears.