David Parsons, International Christian Embassy Jerusalem
August 12, 2005

On a visit this week to the new neighbourhood of Nitzanim, being hastily constructed for hundreds of Gaza evacuees north of Ashkelon, we found traumatized Jewish families crammed into two-bedroom block houses, yards strewn with excess furniture, children dazed by their new surroundings, and parents embittered at being forced from their spacious homes.

And these were the ones who voluntarily decided to leave early.

As of midnight this coming Sunday, any Israelis still residing in Gaza will be deemed illegal and notified they must leave within 48 hours. Tens of thousands of unarmed police and soldiers will then begin forcibly removing any remaining Jews and their possessions from the 21 Jewish communities in the Gaza Strip.

Along with four isolated settlements in northern Samaria, the unilateral disengagement from Gaza starting next week will mark the first time Israel has uprooted Jewish communities from lands claimed by the Palestinians.

It also marks perhaps the most painful 'peacetime' moment in the nation's short, modern history, as some 1700 families will be forced to abandon their homes and lives built over several decades and with official government backing.

About half are leaving without a fight, but an estimated 3,000 Gaza residents and an equal number of supporters who have managed to infiltrate into the Gush Katif bloc remain defiant and vow to physically resist the evacuation orders.

The authorities have built special, ghastly cages ready to lock them up and carry them away. Nonetheless, some are fortifying their homes, while others plan to gather in synagogues for collective resistance. There are whispers that someone may stage some type of Masada-like final stand, suicide and all.

The debate over disengagement has raged for over a year now, complete with distasteful comparisons to rape and even the Holocaust.

Most Israelis admire and empathize with their Gaza compatriots, but support disengagement nevertheless.

As tensions come to a head, over 100,000 sympathizers congregated at the Western Wall in Jerusalem on Wednesday to fervently pray for God to intervene and stop the disengagement plan.

Another 150,000 flocked to Kikar Rabin in Tel Aviv for an anti-pullout protest Thursday evening.

The entire country is poised on the brink of what could be a hugely traumatic turn of events, and no one can predict exactly how it will play out.

But judging by the state of about 30 families from northern Gaza who took the ample compensation offered by the state and left their homes early, even with a peaceful pullout the evacuees will need years to recover from what lies ahead.

We found them on Tuesday in the new town of Nitzanim, living in tiny houses amid a huge construction site, with children on bikes riding down half-finished streets jammed with every type of scoop and dump truck and land-mover imaginable.

In May, the site was still a vast melon field when Israeli Prime Minister Ariel Sharon - the driving force behind disengagement - dropped by and approved it as the main venue for housing up to 450 Gaza families.

In three short months, contractors have transformed it into rows and rows of small, red-tiled block homes, trimmed with turf grass but chocked by clouds of dust stirred by the heavy equipment rumbling by in every direction.

Once in a while, the dust clears and there is the faint smell of a sea breeze blowing in off the Mediterranean two miles west.

"I'm very sad," said Helena. "I built my home with my own hands. First, I dreamed it in my head and then built it with my hands. It was hard to leave."

Helena and her husband are part of a group of 150 'secular' families from Nisanit, a settlement astride the Erez Crossing in the north end of Gaza, who banded together to leave ahead of time and resettle as a community. One by one, they are arriving in Nitzanim. She had been here about four days.

A Russian Jewish couple, immigrants from Tashkent 14 years ago, were just waking up for their first morning coffee in their new 'home.'

"We are a bit bewildered," said the wife. "We had 5 bedrooms and a lovely veranda. Now this."

"This" was living room furniture strewn across the yard amid exposed water and sewer lines, hanging clothes and lots of potted plants. There was simply no room inside for it all.

Every home seemed to tell the same story. All spoke of the pain of abandoning large homes and what they considered comfortable lives in Nisnait (photo right).

But some did not want to speak at all.

"Leave us alone," insisted an elderly man as we approached. "I want to talk with my grandchildren without anyone listening in. We were forced out, okay! We did not want to go."

His son, Reuven, beckoned us aside and explained that his father had come to help his four children understand the ordeal they were going through. The grandfather was not a 'settler' himself, but was every bit as anguished over what the kids were facing.

Wearing a white kippa, Reuven joined the chorus of those embittered by the whole process.

"They've destroyed our home, destroyed our life. We had a palace [in Nisanit]. We did not want to leave."

While the other 150 more 'religious' families in Nisanit have stayed behind until the end, these families opted for the standard compensation of around $350,000 plus bonus money offered to those who left early on their own accord. An extra $30,000 is available to those who rebuild new homes within two years in either the Negev or Galilee.

The 'caravans' being thrown up in Nitzanim are supposed to be temporary way stations, but most families are stuck here for a year or two before they can really begin to put their lives back together.

The construction will be going on for months. Playgrounds are planned for the children and community halls for the adults. The little bikers will have to dodge the machinery until school starts. Most younsters still have their friends around them and will attend the same school in Sderot as last year. But that is the town facing Hamas rocket attacks almost daily.

Surveying the site, one senses the wounds of disengagement will have a hard time healing here.

David Parsons is public relations officer for the International Christian Embassy Jerusalem.

Copyright © 2005 International Christian Embassy Jerusalem