Indigenous-Led Occupation in United States Demands City of Minneapolis Call Off Demolition

MASAFER YATTA, OCCUPIED WEST BANK—On Tuesday, the Israeli military started training in Masafer Yatta, a rural, arid enclave south of the occupied West Bank city of Hebron. This comes after more than two decades of Palestinians using legal avenues to try to stop the seizure of their land.

The military training has involved the army sticking shooting targets onto tractors, windows and barrels of hay.

My voice shakes in this video. Tons of Israeli soldiers just started "training" in Masafer Yatta. They're driving war tanks near a school, as children watch, terrified, they're placing targets on cars and windows, they're doing this to evict us in the most brutal way possible. pic.twitter.com/kWV7JWEraB

— #SaveMasaferYatta (@basel_adra) June 22, 2022

They also have driven war tanks over cultivated fields.

These military tanks turned our house in Masafer Yatta into a military barracks#savemasaferyatta pic.twitter.com/XswS8MR6sj

— awdah jahaleen (@AwdahJ) June 21, 2022

Expected to last a whole month, this is the first such military training exercise in the Palestinian community in 20 years, and comes as Masafer Yatta is experiencing the largest mass expulsion of Palestinians since 1967.

Today the military launched its training in Masafer Yatta, which is planned to last a whole month, by positioning targets, pictured here, on the vehicles and property of Palestinians from the community of al-Majaz.

Credit: Mashur Wahwah pic.twitter.com/SXooAiPp2X

— B'Tselem בצלם بتسيلم (@btselem) June 21, 2022

Demonstrations—regularly met with violence from soldiers and Israeli settlers—have occurred almost weekly since Israel’s Supreme Court rejected a petition in May against the expulsion of more than 1,000 Palestinians.

For example, on June 10, the Israeli army attacked a Palestinian-led protest. Soldiers beat protesters, fired tear gas that burned demonstrators, threw stun grenades and detained Israeli solidarity activists. More than 200 Palestinians, Israelis, and Jews from both the United States and the United Kingdom protested as part of the “Save Masafer Yatta” campaign.

“Our protests show the racism in how the Israeli army treats us,” said Basil Adra, an activist from the village of Tuwani in Masafer Yatta. “Soldiers who claim that they are not allowed to stop settlers from committing violence against us are then very aggressive towards protesters.”

The Culmination of a Decades-Long Legal Battle

In the 1980s, the Israeli army declared all 19 villages in Masafer Yatta as “Firing Zone 918,” a closed military training site. By 1999, the Israeli military rounded up more than 700 residents into trucks and expelled them off land they had cultivated for generations.

In response to the forcible transfer, the Association for Civil Rights in Israel (ACRI) in the year 2000 filed petitions with the Israeli Supreme Court on behalf of residents. The court then granted an interim injunction, permitting residents to temporarily return to their homes.

A 2012 state attorney decision allowed four villages—Tuba, Sirat ‘Awad Ibrahim, Sarura and Mufaqara—to remain based upon the Israeli Defense Ministry’s position that the land wasn’t needed for military training. Despite the decision, settler violence and land theft have plagued these villages.

From there, the high court continued hearings on various petitions for years. But last month, the court dismissed residents’ petitions. In its ruling, the court determined the Palestinian inhabitants—who live nomadically and depend on shepherding for their livelihoods—were not permanent residents when the military declared the area a firing zone.

The recent court opinion has given the army the green light to demolish eight villages and displace the Masafer Yatta residents once again.

The residents, along with ACRI, petitioned the Supreme Court on Sunday for an additional hearing and interim order to stop military training in Masafer Yatta.

“It is to be hoped that the high court will accept the request for additional hearing and reverse the ruling that war crimes can be committed under the court’s purview,” ACRI attorneys Dan Yakir and Roni Pelli said.

From Quiet Grazing Lands to an ‘Army Base’

Since the court ruling, residents say Masafer Yatta feels like it has transformed into the equivalent of a military base. Temporary army checkpoints have been established at entrances of the area’s eight villages deemed the firing zone. Soldiers with assault rifles strapped to their chests patrol the area daily—delivering demolition orders, as well as carrying out arrests and nightly raids. Military jeeps packed with soldiers roam the rocky terrain.

The Israeli military has already started carrying out demolitions since the court ruling.

BREAKING Imminent threat to the entire community of Khalet a-Thab’a in Masafer Yatta. From Sunday June 19, all but three of the village’s structures are at risk of being destroyed.

Israel is advancing the gradual expulsion of Masafer Yatta.
THREAD#SaveMasaferYatta
/1 pic.twitter.com/WoWWB7zF4W

— Yehuda Shaul (@YehudaShaul) June 16, 2022

In May, 19 structures such as houses, tents, animal pens and water tanks were demolished. That left 45 people homeless in the villages of Al-Fakheit and Al-Mirkez. This month, the army bulldozed tents belonging to 21 residents of these villages, which they had set up after their homes were destroyed. On Thursday, all but three buildings in the village of Khalet a-Thab’a received demolition orders that can be enacted beginning Sunday.

Even areas of Masafer Yatta not part of the firing zone are at risk of being razed. The Israeli Civil Administration, which governs activities in the West Bank, issued on Thursday a demolition order for Palestinian activist group Youth of Sumud’s guest house and community center.

Just now the Israeli civil administration accompanied with army raided Tuwani village delivered a final demolition order for Youth Of sumud center in the village in Masafer Yatta /South Hebron Hills . #SaveMasaferYatta pic.twitter.com/cJsLEsr0YZ

— Youth of Sumud (@YouthOfSumud) June 13, 2022

“This center, which we worked for years to complete, is a big step for the people of Masafer Yatta to organize and protect our lands. We use this place to host internationals, hold meetings and organize community gatherings,” Sami Huraini of Youth of Sumud told Toward Freedom. “This demolition order isn’t just about the Youth of Sumud—it is about crushing organizing efforts in solidarity with the vulnerable communities in the 918 firing zone.”

The center is located in Tuwani—the only village in Masafer Yatta with a zoning plan—meaning the law protects it from demolition. Sameeha Huraini, Sami’s sister who also is involved with Youth of Sumud, explained the Civil Administration gave the demolition order on the grounds the center is located outside of the zoning plan and on an archeological site—both claims are false, she said. The Israeli military and Coordinator of Government Activities in the Territories, which oversees the Civil Administration, did not respond to requests for comment by the time of publication.

‘Our Rights Have Become Dreams’

Army-enforced eviction isn’t Masafer Yatta’s only struggle. Several illegal, Jewish-only settlements encircle the region.

“Israeli illegal outposts inside Masafer Yatta are connected to resources and are not under imminent eviction,” said Ali Awad, a Palestinian activist from the village of Tuba. “Settlers in these outposts commit violence against neighboring Palestinians and work in tandem with the Israeli military to steal our resources and expel us from our homes.”

While the Palestinian villages are not connected to the electrical grid and water system, the illegal settlements are. Without these hookups, Palestinians are forced to survive on NGO-donated solar panels and expensive water tanks, which settlers often destroy and soldiers confiscate.

Awdah Hathaleen, a Palestinian activist from the village of Umm al-Khair in Masafer Yatta, lamented what will happen to his community if the army is successful in dismantling the eight villages.

“After that, what will be [the army’s] next mission? The other villages [in Masafer Yatta], and, unfortunately, my village will be one of them. Because if they succeed in this, they will just keep going,” Hathaleen told Toward Freedom. “We are humans. Humans who deserve basic rights. But our rights have become dreams. And now we have to work to make those dreams become reality.”

Jessica Buxbaum is a Jerusalem-based freelance journalist reporting on Palestine and the Israeli occupation. You can follow her on Twitter at @jess_buxbaum.

KOSOVSKA MITROVICA, Kosovo—A fight over license plates in the Balkans has gotten the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO) involved.

Posters and graffiti can be seen throughout the Serbian-dominated part of the town of Kosovska Mitrovica in northern Kosovo that say, “No surrender—Serbian license plates and ID remain.”

Despite the European Union moderating bilateral talks, ethnically Albanian-dominated authorities in Pristina, Kosovo’s capital, plan on September 1 to re-register vehicles featuring Serbian plates. However, recent protests jammed up border crossings between Kosovo and Serbia. Plus, a poll shows the majority of Kosovo-based Serbs plan to continue using Serbian-issued license plates.

“They will certainly provide resistance if Pristina attempts to ‘nationalize’ thousands of cars if their owners refuse to replace Serbian-issued license plates with Kosovan ones,” said Milica Andric Rakic. The project manager of Kosovska Mitrovica-based non-governmental organization New Social Initiative told Toward Freedom that Serbs may bow to a certain degree to pressure from Belgrade, but will not accept ultimatums from Pristina.

This dispute comes amid Serbia’s resistance to the European Union’s and the United States’ pressure to recognize the 2008 secession of Kosovo. But, as Serbian President Aleksandar Vucic recently pointed out, both entities refuse to acknowledge breakaway republics in Ukraine’s Donbass region.

Serbia-Kosovo Relations

Following the 1999 NATO bombing of Serbia, the Serbian police and army were forced to withdraw from the country’s southern province, Kosovo. Then NATO troops entered Kosovo in June 1999, having remained since. Nine years later, Pristina declared independence, a move recognized by most Western countries. In southern Kosovo, ethnic Albanians make up over 90 percent of the population.

Serbia’s defeat, however, did not mark the end of the presence of Serbian institutions in Kosovo. In the north, as well as in certain places in the south, Serbs make up the majority of the population. Despite the secession, Serbia has continued issuing license plates and identification cards (IDs) to Serbs living in northern Kosovo.

“For Kosovo’s Prime Minister Albin Kurti, those car plates are illegal,” Rakic said. “But for the local Serbs, they are the only ones they have.”

She said Serbs do not want to integrate into Kosovo’s legal and political system, despite occasional pressure that comes from Belgrade. For them, Kosovo is part of Serbia. That is Belgrade’s official position, too.

However, amid Western pressure over the years, Serbia has had to make concessions to Kosovo. For example, in 2011, Serbia agreed to create de facto border crossings with Kosovo, while Serbian police officers were integrated into the Kosovo police force. In 2013, Belgrade called on Serbs living in northern Kosovo to take part in Pristina-run local elections. Two years later, Serbia’s judicial authorities in northern Kosovo were integrated into the Kosovo legal framework.

“The Serbs in northern Kosovo never supported such actions. That is why Belgrade was always either ‘bribing’ them or pressuring them to integrate into Kosovo’s institutions,” Rakic said, referring to various deals Belgrade has offered Serbs over the years to de-escalate the situation.

‘New Generation Will Not Put Up with Terror’

Serbian President Aleksandar Vucic expressed solidarity with ordinary Serbians at an August 17 joint press conference with NATO Secretary General Jens Stoltenberg.

“A new generation of young men in northern Kosovo will not put up with the terror that comes from Pristina,” Vucic said.

But, Sinisa Radovic, who owns a small souvenir shop in Kosovska Mitrovica, said he has no choice but to re-register his vehicle.

“Otherwise, they will confiscate it. Right now, if I drive a car with Serbian-issued plates south of Kosovska Mitrovica, the police can fine me and I would have to pay 250 euros,” Radovic explained.

In northern Kosovo, drivers have used stickers to cover Serbian state symbols on license plates. It is a temporary solution to the dispute.

On August 18 in Brussels, Vucic and Kurti failed to reach a deal, although EU High Representative for Foreign Policy and Security Josep Borrell claimed they have until September 1 to resolve the burning issue.

Kosovo Prime Minister Albin Kurti has stated Serbian license plates are considered illegal. Rakic said it’s possible Kosovo’s authorities will force Serbs into Kosovo’s legal system without an agreement with Serbia.

“Such an attempt will undoubtedly lead to an escalation,” she pointed out.

‘Pristina Will Have a Big Problem’

Moreover, Pristina now requires Serbs living in northern Kosovo to replace their Serbian-issued identification cards with Kosovo documents.

Some challenges Serbians in Kosovo face are that Pristina neither recognizes Serbian-issued driver’s licenses nor Serbian-issued IDs.

Some Serbians hold Kosovo’s IDs, while others cannot get them for technical reasons. In order to apply for a Kosovo ID, one would have to attach a birth certificate. Serbians living in Kosovo would want a Kosovo-issued ID to be able to get Kosovo-issued driver’s licenses and plates to be allowed to drive south of the Serbian-dominated areas. Plus, to get paid by a Kosovo-based employer, they would need a Kosovo ID to be able to open bank accounts to receive direct paycheck deposits.

“But Pristina does not recognize birth certificates issued by Serbia’s authorities after June 1999, which means that someone who was born in Kosovska Mitrovica in 2000 does not legally exist for Pristina and cannot even apply for an ID,” Rakic explained.

Yet, some holdouts remain. One of them is local pensioner Mirko Trajkovic.

“This is Serbia. Why should I have any documents issued by illegal institutions in Pristina?” Trajkovic said, adding Belgrade will not betray Serbs in northern Kosovo.

This reporter found it difficult to find many Serbs who would comment. Many fear both the Serbian and Kosovo governments would retaliate.

Neither Belgrade nor Pristina effectively control northern Kosovo. The territory is a “gray zone,” where NATO’s Kosovo Force (KFOR) mission is expected to intervene in case of potential clashes between Serbs and the Albanian-dominated Kosovo Security Forces.

Meanwhile, panic has spread on social media and in Western media. Plus, the Kosovo prime minister speculated about an escalation leading to a new war in the Balkans.

Rakic thinks that’s unlikely, though. But she did suggest one possibility: Because Kosovo has rejected all Serbian proposals for a resolution, what could happen if no deal is reached by September 1 is Belgrade may call on the Serbian community in the north to boycott Kosovo-issued documents and license plates.

“Then Pristina will have a big problem, since it is logistically very difficult to confiscate thousands of vehicles.”

Nikola Mikovic is a Serbia-based contributor to CGTN, Global Comment, Byline Times, Informed Comment, and World Geostrategic Insights, among other publications. He is a geopolitical analyst for KJ Reports and Enquire.

A scene in Nia Dacosta’s film, “Candyman” (2021), might go unnoticed, but it signifies the theme of representation appearing throughout the film. Representation refers to oppressed people being seen in media and politics, but it does not mean they wield power in those sectors.

Actor Yahya Abdul-Mateen II plays the central character “Anthony McCoy,” whom we aren’t sure can be called a protagonist or an antagonist, even by the movie’s end. In the aforementioned scene, he stands at the intersection of a long-abandoned neighborhood, which is composed of former row-house apartments that used to surround the high-rise tower of Cabrini-Green, a public-housing project in Chicago. The street he is facing is empty of typical neighborhood life—adults going to and from work or errands, kids playing, teens hanging out. But remnants of their neighborhood, including the doorless, windowless apartment units that offer nothing but a foreboding darkness, stand as empty, haunting reminders of a people who used to live there but are long gone. The street is marked by a sign for “Mohawk St.”, and as he walks around the corner, another street sign reads “Locust St.” These are actual streets in the Cabrini-Green neighborhood in Chicago, lending credibility to the storyline by anchoring the tale in the actual remains of the infamous neighborhood, whose residents had been long displaced through gentrification.

But the street names seem to also juxtapose the disappearance of Indigenous tribes, like the Mohawk. They are relegated to outposts that are out of sight, out of mind for the rest of us. The impetus behind the mass displacement of both the Black and poor residents of Cabrini-Green and Indigenous people is the locust-like swarm of gentrification, which could be argued is a modern day form of settler-colonialism. It might be a stretch to make this kind of observation of this scene. It might not have been one that DaCosta might have been intending to make. But it is a connection I couldn’t help making, considering “Candyman” is less of a horror film than an indictment of white supremacy and the terror that it inflicts upon the communities it ravages.

I will try not to provide many spoilers in this review. I will say seeing the first “Candyman” (1992) is critical to understanding the expansion of the story and themes in the current iteration. But those themes that are outside of the conventional horror narrative are as important to the experience as continuing the urban legend of “Candyman.”

Abdul-Mateen is convincing in his portrayal of “Anthony,” a young Black aspiring artist struggling to make his mark on the art world. Ebulliant actor Teyonah Parris plays McCoy’s partner, “Brianna Cartwright,” also a young Black up-and-comer working as a curator at the gallery where her partner’s work is being shown. 

The characters live together in one of the trendy, expensive apartments in the gentrified Cabrini-Green neighborhood, long after the towers had been torn down. Brianna and Anthony appear to have a loving, committed relationship, a lovely expression of Black Love that we all enjoy seeing so much, and we need to see more of. That is until Anthony learns about the legend of Candyman from Brianna’s brother, “Troy,” played by actor Nathan Stewart-Jarrett. Anthony is fascinated with the legend and pursues inspiration for new art by visiting what is left of the old Cabrini-Green neighborhood. He meets one of the last remaining residents, seemingly neighborly “William Burke,” portrayed by veteran actor Colman Domingo. 

Here is where I’ll leave off describing the timeline of the movie, because how things happen almost take a backseat to what some of those things seem to represent. 

Anthony slowly transforms into… something, and his physical transformation coincides with what seems like the fraying of his mental state. Anthony attempts to protect his partner, Brianna, in a pivotal scene that exposes something far more sinister in real life than a horror movie boogeyman: The horrifying and lasting effects of trauma and the unaddressed mental illness among Black people, particularly how Black men are misunderstood or ignored when they suffer mental health crises and trauma.

The tendency for many of us to dissociate ourselves from mental illness and trauma is touched on in a seemingly disconnected flashback that Brianna has of a traumatic childhood experience with her father. No, it’s not sexual abuse, but it is traumatic. But because she never confronts what happens, when her partner, Anthony, begins to display behavior that suggests his mental health is fraying, Brianna responds with less and less understanding, and more and more hostility. Focusing more on moving up in her career than her partner’s obvious growing difficulties, she ultimately leaves Anthony alone to face whatever he is experiencing.

Brianna’s brother, Troy, is also pointedly critical of Anthony as the Black Man Living Off a Black Woman. But Troy himself is settling into a relationship with his new partner, “Clive” (played by Brian King), who Brianna accepts and notes is a welcome change from her brother’s usual unsavory choices. It is another interesting play on the trope of listless Black men being leeches on successful Black women that doesn’t sting any more or less because the one employing it in this case is a gay man. Rather it seems that this represents the pervasiveness of the deadbeat Black man stereotype—even other marginalized Black men believe it.

Much of the first third of the film revolves around Anthony’s transformation. That is where the trauma of centuries of racist violence against Black men emerges.

Much of Anthony’s transmogrification occurs in front of mirrors. That is obvious to the storyline and the myth of Candyman, but it doesn’t quite apply to Anthony because he isn’t sure if he is hallucinating or not. When he realizes that what he is seeing is real, the scene conveys less horror movie scare than a deep reflection into what happens to Black men’s souls living in a white supremacist system that loves their culture, their swag, their art and anything else from which society can profit. But this society doesn’t love them, and it will not hesitate to express its disregard for Black men in the most violent, inhumane ways possible.

That long history of racist violence against Black men is told in cleverly laid-out shadow puppetry, which simultaneously removes the physical gruesomeness of the acts portrayed while delivering their inhumane brutality. Each shadow-puppet story relates to a different iteration of Candyman, and the collective trauma of centuries of violent racist brutality against Black men turns the Candyman figure into something other than a villain. Terrifying in his visage and actions, certainly, but the question emerges as the connections are made between this history and the urban legend come to life: Is Candyman the monster, or is the monster what created Candyman?

As viewers hopefully make this connection, they are invited if they are thinking further to ask a larger question: Are Black men, who lash out at a society that finds every way imaginable to destroy them, the monsters society says they are, or is the monster really society?

Indictments of white supremacist society and privilege, and the impact of the trauma of community having been erased, are woven throughout the film, reflecting ways Black people are either dismissed or used before being discarded.

The contempt and condescending paternalism of society’s gatekeepers is represented by the gallery owner and the art critic—and even the Black major-gallery curator—as they have little regard or use for Anthony as he struggles to produce content that will elevate his profile. They do not hesitate to disregard him when he is no longer of use to them.

The ease with which an oblivious white society appropriates Black culture, traditions and even urban legends—believing no consequences exist for that appropriation because they have no connection to the community those things come from—is reflected in a scene that is on the surface typical horror-movie, high-school kid hijinks.

The crushing trauma of surviving the systematic eradication of one’s community, and the desire to get back or revive what was taken or destroyed, is an underlying aspect of the actions of neighborly-seeming sole survivor/resident of Cabrini-Green, William Burke. 

The way society is more accepting of a Black women’s efforts to climb the ladder, and how easily they dismiss Black men as they fall down it—even as they watch—can be extrapolated as we witness Anthony’s growing instability as it manifests itself when he and Brianna are trying to court a renowned gallery owner.

The way that our parents may have been doing the best they thought they could by moving their children out of the ‘hood and into “better” neighborhoods, encouraging them to forget where they came from in an effort to give them a better life, seeps through the cracks as Anthony confronts his mother about a past she has kept from him. The toll of keeping that secret trauma seems to have weighed heavily on his mother, as well, as family secrets are wont to do…  

The running theme of racist police violence in the film—from beginning to end—is reminiscent of… well… every story we know about racist police violence. Brianna is ultimately put in a horrific situation, and then cynically used against Anthony in a way that shouldn’t be unfamiliar to our real-life experience with racist police terrorism. Brianna realizes then who she is, who Anthony is, and that he is the only one who can save her.

I have noticed among online fan reviews wildly divergent reactions to this movie, almost strictly along racial lines. If the reviewer is a white person, they almost unanimously and unequivocally hate this movie. I see these people as those who do not want to face the traumas and horrors of the history and continuing legacy of racist violence against Black people, which I believe this film effectively expands upon from the original “Candyman.” Although, I find it odd some who have seen this film say they loved the original, but hate this one because it’s “too political,” because they clearly missed the political history of Candyman in the original. They’re mad Candyman only kills certain people, but aren’t bothered at all by the historical track record and legacy of the broken bodies and souls of Black men, women, and children that created Candyman. So they do not see the connection between real life reflected in the film’s themes. But selective memory is what this society is great at, so this response is actually not a surprise at all.

But for others who understand what DaCosta’s “Candyman” is trying to say and why, it may not be scary in the traditional slasher/spine-tingler sense, so it’s hard to say whether or not the movie is “good” as a traditional horror film. However, the real-life nightmares and horrors reflected in this film are what many Black viewers will be all too familiar with.  

As Brianna’s brother, Troy, says early in the movie, “Black people don’t need to be summoning shit.” 

We don’t have to summon supernatural boogeymen. The horrors we live are real.

Jacqueline Luqman is a radical activist based in Washington, D.C.; as well as co-founder of Luqman Nation, an independent Black media outlet that can be found on YouTube (here and here) and on Facebook; and co-host of Radio Sputnik’s “By Any Means Necessary.”