THEY lay on the school principal's table, the relics of ten-yearold Abir Aramin's last, fatal, journey: the black plastic shoulder bag containing the sixth grade maths text book, cheerfully decorated with Cindy dolls, which she had taken for last minute revision before her exam that morning; the bars of Cadbury's Dairy Milk and Biskrem she had bought in the little grocery shop across the street when it was over. Sawsan Halwe, head of Anata Girls' School, recalled how after what she said was a "big boom" Abir had been carried bleeding and unconscious, through the schoolyard into a classroom. She tried to describe Abir in normal times: "She was lovely. Her teachers liked her, she had good grades. She was a very active student."
But then Abir has an unusual father. Bassam Aramin, 39, had been an active Fatah militant in his youth, ready to kill for the Palestinian cause, and jailed for seven years for attempting to do so. Yet today he is energetic in Israeli-Palestinian dialogue and closely associated with the Peres Centre for Peace. Last April Mr Aramin helped to found Combatants for Peace, a unique organisation of former Israeli soldiers and ex-Palestinian gunmen who have renounced violence and are devoted to the cause of ending the occupation by peaceful methods alone. A mere 10 months later, Mr Aramin has had his beliefs tested to the outer limit, by a grief he could never imagine. Yesterday at Jerusalem's Al Aqsa's Mosque he buried Abir, his younger daughter, killed by what he and every resident of Anata is convinced was fire at lethally close range, probably, they believe, a rubber coated bullet, from an Israeli border police jeep.
Shortly after 10am on Tuesday, Abir, her sister and two friends, came out of the grocery store and started walking downhill. At that point, said Abrar Abu Qweida, 12, an Israeli jeep came up the hill. Further down she saw "three or four" boys throwing stones at the vehicle. As the jeep passed she noticed a gun protruding from the rear window. Moments later, she says, a Ford Transit of the sort frequently used in the West Bank for unlicensed passenger transport came uphill. Abrar explained: "Abir said: 'let's get in the Ford.' We were afraid from the jeep. But I said 'I haven't any money.' So she said: 'OK, we don't go.'" Abir's fatal injury came moments later. Abrar was holding Abir's hand. Abar and friend Arin ducked while Abir fell forward. Abrar ran into the school while Arin fell to the ground from the shock, crying. "Two men jumped out [of the Ford Transit] and carried Abir into the school."
Abrar said. "I was crying all the time. I can't study now."
After a formal complaint by the family, police have now launched an investigation by its internal affairs division. The police suggested this week that she might have been hit by a stone thrown by a Palestinian, and the initial findings of yesterday's autopsy do not so far prove that she was shot. Abrar's account is consistent with the massive fracture in the back of Abir's skull, with other eye witness reports, and with the rubber bullet found where Abir fell. The Peres Centre's Dr David Shanin, who visited doctors at the Hadassah with Bassam Aramin, as his daughter lay clinically dead, is convinced her injuries were caused by a rubber bullet. "The cause is obvious to anyone who doesn't want to twist the truth."
In order to ensure his family was not caught up in the clashes while the separation barrier was being built through Anata last year, Aramin moved his sons to a school in east Jerusalem. "I do not want revenge. Revenge is against our principles. My revenge is to bring [the perpetrator] to court, to defend other children, and so that he will learn not to shoot in cold blood and that there is a price to be paid. This should be the same for Israelis and Palestinians."
Even if Abir was not shot, there remains the question of what the police were doing around the schools in Anata. The police say they were there to protect "ongoing work" on the separation barrier. Residents are adamant the work stopped months ago when the barrier was completed. Avichai Sharon, says: "A few months ago they did come to protect the bulldozers.
But now there is nothing to protect. They are just there to cause a provocation. There is no other reason."
Aramin is to continue the fight for peace. "We have no choice but to continue to save more children from falling in this dirty conflict." He adds his Israeli exsoldier friends in Combatants for Peace have shown unswerving solidarity. "They even left their jobs to be with me and that has helped to make me feel strong."
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