notes of a non-combatant

checkpoint culture

The word “makh’som” is Hebrew, but is also often used in Arabic; only in English do we call it a “checkpoint.” Regardless of the different words, checkpoints also have different meanings among speakers of different languages.

One of Banksy’s stencils hangs above the entrance to the Bethlehem checkpoint.
The Polish script roughly translates to “My house, divided by a wall.”

To Israelis, in Hebrew, a makh’som is a point in the separation wall where your average Israeli can’t pass. Except for settlers traveling to their settlement, it is illegal for most Israelis to travel into Palestinian areas. A makh’som is something you can easily pass to enter forbidden territory, but it is where you get arrested while trying to re-enter your own country. For Israeli Arabs, makh’somim are what separate you from your own ethnicity.

Oddly enough, checkpoints do love tourists, but not Palestinians or Israelis.
To the right, another Banksy mural is partially visible.

To Palestinians, in Arabic, the haajez is another form of administrative apartheid. It is always a mass of concrete and metal in one shape or another; either a massive wall with a concrete building full of metal turnstiles and Israeli soldiers, or a massive row of jersey walls leading to a military outfit ready to interrogate you. Checkpoints are a place where you have to take your shoes, belt, and jacket off, as well as lifting up your shirt, before going through the metal detector. It is a place where, if cars are permitted to pass, all passengers must leave the car and stand thirty feet back while the car is inspected, if the soldiers choose to search it. It is a place where you get your identification card recorded, your travel permit scrutinized, and your fingerprint scanned at one of the many turnstiles. It is a place where men and women with assault rifles deconstruct your daily life, hopefully without much regular harassment or embarrassment.

One of the many corrals in the Bethlehem checkpoint.

To foreigners, in English, a checkpoint is a tourist attraction of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. It is a place where people from different countries pull out their cameras to take photos, hoping an Israeli soldier won’t have the energy to confiscate or smash it for “security reasons”. It can be a massive maze of doors without signs, metal fenced hallways that seem to lead nowhere, metal-cage turnstiles that seem to operate or halt at the whim of a soldier’s finger hovering over a button. It is a place bustling with life on both sides of the wall, with konafe and fruit stands selling their goods next to loud taxi stands, where life absolutely grinds to a somber halt as soon as you enter the fenced-in entry line. To foreigners, checkpoints can be places where you have a knife or a gun waved in your face just like any Palestinian, where Israelis gloat their power direct to your face, or where they nonchalantly wave you through as if they barely notice your existence. Checkpoints can be a myriad of things, but to the outside observer who usually receives first-class treatment, checkpoints are where you can begin to understand the Palestinian position under the Israeli military occupation.

Oddly enough, the “tourist and humanitarian” lane leads absolutely nowhere; it goes 100m to a concrete wall.

Beside the bland metal turnstiles, enormous concrete walls and watchtowers, and harassment from the soldiers, checkpoints are also a place of cultural expression for those with open eyes. Despite the obvious collective punishment that the separation wall and checkpoints are, constituting a massive human rights violation, the barrier also gives an extremely solid medium for a number of artists to portray their thoughts and emotions on the situation. Below are a number of photographs taken today of graffiti on and around the separation wall surrounding the Bethlehem checkpoint.

The notorious Blue Line labels landmarks, such as the Bethlehem checkpoint near this guard tower.

Directly next to the entrance to the Bethlehem checkpoint.

A common stencil found along the wall.

Painted on the actual wall, in the checkpoint corral, 50m from the guardhouse.

A short walk from the checkpoint, quick and simple graffiti is everywhere.

Love and peace are common themes among freehand graffiti.

Coexistence is another common theme.

Following the wall and its graffiti lands us behind someone’s backyard.

Eventually, it leads us into someone’s backyard, in their olive grove.

While trespassing in someone’s olive grove, looking for a way out, we found the ribbon.

50 meters from the ribbon, “I want my ball back! Thanks.”

In some spots, murals randomly adorn the wall.

Sometimes the murals just brighten up the drab concrete.

Symbolically breaking the wall is a common theme. Another tragic victim of the Blue Line.

Two random camels riding atop a random camel.
This portion of wall was painted by Banksy.

The Bahamas Seafood restaurant was destroyed when the barrier was built in its place, so its menu was painted on the wall after the store re-opened at its current site, across the street from the wall.

Some pieces of graffiti are more artistic than others.
Some make more sense than others.

The Legoman stencil is also commonly found around Tel Aviv, without his head.

Exercising cultural expression, besides through art, is also a common method of resistance.

Very poignant that his nose would grow missile fins.

At least they can fly over the wall…

In one area near the checkpoint, dozens of faces adorn the wall for about 100m.

Emily standing in front of the donkeys, across the street from the wall.
Mural painted by Eric the Dog.

Also across the street from the wall, peace is under fire.
Painted by Banksy.

By the time I captured these works of art on my camera, the sun had been long gone and it was too dark to photograph any more. There are hundreds and thousands of more pieces of artwork on and around the Palestinian side of the separation wall- we may never know who painted them, but we will always understand their messages.