Words
Our leaflet is regularly updated. An indicative example is below.
Text of leaflet Women in Black Edinburgh, Scotland 2010/1
Still Breathing: A Report from Gaza
Message from Catherine aged nine
We stand here in solidarity with ALL victims of wars: our silence is visible
We stand to bear silent witness against the futility of war and the devastation which comes in its wake.
Britain at war again:
For the last 9 years, the UK has been sending UK troops to Afghanistan as part of the American-led Coalition against terrorism. Attacks are made against reported al-Qaeda bases and Taliban installations. From Dec 01, the UK has been operating as part of the International Security Assistance Force (ISAF), authorised by the United Nations and comprising 40 nations.
Human cost of this conflict:
Since October 2001, 247 British personnel have died in the conflict, and there have been over 1000 UK forces wounded in action, 365 of these seriously wounded (www.mod.uk/DefenceInternet/ 11.1.2010).
As in all modern warfare, civilians have suffered greater losses. It is estimated that at least 8165 Afghan civilians have been killed, and a further 14,697 seriously injured 2001-2009 (www.unknownnews.net/casualties).
The Universal Declaration of Human Rights
was signed after World War II ended in 1945,
to show that
War does not end conflict;
War does not bring peace;
War is not the answer.
Nevertheless, since 1945, the UK has sent British troops on military missions in India, Palestine, Malaya, Europe, Korea, Suez, Kenya, Cyprus, Aden and Radfan, Suez (again), Borneo, Northern Ireland, Oman Dhofar, Falklands, Gulf War, Sierra Leone, Iraq, and Afghanistan. In addition, British troops have been part of UN and NATO peace keeping forces – for example in Bosnia, Cameroons, Croatia, The Congo, Macedonia, East Timor, and Lebanon. Other units have been sent as support in civil wars or threatened invasions, e.g. Greece, Eritrea, Nigeria, and Belize.
If war is not the answer, what can we do?
If war is not the answer, what can we do?
- Before we vote for wars, or allow our governments to take us into armed conflicts, let’s examine alternatives.
- It’s not wars that lead to peace, it’s talking to each other,
- And talking costs significantly less in lives and money than designing, manufacturing and using weapons of war.
We can ask our Government representatives questions:
- about the cost of war, and about the cost of peace;
- about what the Ministry of ‘Defence’ does;
- about Britain’s arms industry;
- about war being a suitable strategy against terrorism.
We can stand up and say:
- 'No' to investing in weapons of war;
- 'Yes' to peace;
- We can dare to imagine a world without war;
- We can dare to imagine a government that invests in peace;
- It is not good enough that for every 50p spent on U.N. peacekeeping, member nations spend £1,000 on making war.
'The battle for human rights is everyone's story. If we speak with a clear, strong, united voice, lives will change for the better.' - Kate Allen, Director of Amnesty International UK
Women in Black is an international network of women opposed to war, militarism and violence. It is a non-party political, non-aligned network of women:
- supporting peaceful alternatives to militarism, arms sales, war and violence,
- increasing understanding of conflict and use of non-violent strategies for peace.
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Women in Black started in 1988 when Israeli and Palestinian women stood together in vigil in Jerusalem against Israel's occupation of the West Bank and Gaza. Women in Black now stand vigil for peace in at least 15 countries worldwide. Women in Black (International) was awarded the Millennium Women's Peace Prize by the United Nations in 2001, and the following year the group was nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize. |
Still Breathing, A Report from Gaza
By Caoimhe Butterly
The morgues of Gaza's hospitals are over-flowing. The bodies in their blood-soaked white shrouds cover the entire floor space of the Shifa hospital morgue. Some are intact, most horribly deformed, limbs twisted into unnatural positions, chest cavities exposed, heads blown off, skulls crushed in. Family members wait outside to identify and claim a brother, husband, father, mother, wife, child. Many of those who wait their turn have lost numerous family members and loved ones.
Blood is everywhere. Hospital orderlies hose down the floors of operating rooms, bloodied bandages lie discarded in corners, and the injured continue to pour in: bodies lacerated by shrapnel, burns, bullet wounds. Medical workers, exhausted and under siege, work day and night and each life saved is seen as a victory over the predominance of death.
The streets of Gaza are eerily silent- the pulsing life and rhythm of markets, children, fishermen walking down to the sea at dawn brutally stilled and replaced by an atmosphere of uncertainty, isolation and fear. The ever-present sounds of surveillance drones, F16s, tanks and apaches are listened to acutely as residents try to guess where the next deadly strike will be- which house, school, clinic, mosque, governmental building or community centre will be hit next and how to move before it does. That there are no safe places- no refuge for vulnerable human bodies- is felt acutely. It is a devastating awareness for parents- that there is no way to keep their children safe.
As we continue to accompany the ambulances, joining Palestinian paramedics as they risk their lives, daily, to respond to calls from those with no other life-line, our existence becomes temporarily narrowed down and focused on the few precious minutes that make the difference between life and death. With each new call received as we ride in ambulances that careen down broken, silent roads, sirens and lights blaring, there exists a battle of life over death. We have learned the language of the war that the Israelis are waging on the collective captive population of Gaza- to distinguish between the sounds of the weaponry used, the timing between the first missile strikes and the inevitable second- targeting those that rush to tend to and evacuate the wounded, to recognize the signs of the different chemical weapons being used in this onslaught, to overcome the initial vulnerability of recognizing our own mortality.
Though many of the calls received are to pick up bodies, not the wounded, the necessity of affording the dead a dignified burial drives the paramedics to face the deliberate targeting of their colleagues and comrades- thirteen killed while evacuating the wounded, fourteen ambulances destroyed- and to continue to search for the shattered bodies of the dead to bring home to their families.
Last night, while sitting with paramedics in Jabaliya refugee camp, drinking tea and listening to their stories, we received a call to respond to the aftermath of a missile strike. When we arrived at the outskirts of the camp where the attack had taken place the area was filled with clouds of dust, torn electricity lines, slabs of concrete and open water pipes gushing water into the street. Amongst the carnage of severed limbs and blood we pulled out the body of a young man, his chest and face lacerated by shrapnel wounds, but alive- conscious and moaning.
As the ambulance sped him through the cold night we applied pressure to his wounds, the warmth of his blood seeping through the bandages reminder of the life still in him. He opened his eyes in answer to my questions and closed them again as Muhammud, a volunteer paramedic, murmured "ayeesh, nufuss"- live, breathe- over and over to him. He lost consciousness as we arrived at the hospital, received into the arms of friends who carried him into the emergency room. He, Majid, lived and is recovering.
A few minutes later there was another missile strike, this time on a residential house. As we arrived a crowd had rushed to the ruins of the four story home in an attempt to drag survivors out from under the rubble. The family the house belonged to had evacuated the area the day before and the only person in it at the time of the strike was 17 year old Muhammud who had gone back to collect clothes for his family. He was dragged out from under the rubble still breathing- his legs twisted in unnatural directions and with a head wound, but alive. There was no choice but to move him, with the imminence of a possible second strike, and he lay in the ambulance moaning with pain and calling for his mother. We thought he would live, he was conscious though in intense pain and with the rest of the night consumed with call after call to pick up the wounded and the dead, I forgot to check on him. This morning we were called to pick up a body from Shifa hospital to take back to Jabaliya. We carried a body wrapped in a blood-soaked white shroud into the ambulance, and it wasn't until we were on the road that we realized that it was Muhammud's body. His brother rode with us, opening the shroud to tenderly kiss Muhammud's forehead.
This morning we received news that Al-Quds hospital in Gaza City was under siege. We tried unsuccessfully for hours to gain access to the hospital, trying to organize co-ordination to get the ambulances past Israeli tanks and snipers to evacuate the wounded and dead. Hours of unsuccessful attempts later we received a call from the Shujahiya neighborhood, describing a house where there were both dead and wounded patients to pick up. The area was deserted, many families having fled as Israeli tanks and snipers took up position amongst their homes, other silent in the dark, cold confines of their homes, crawling from room to room to avoid sniper fire through their windows.
As we drove slowly around the area, we heard women’s cries for help. We approached their house on foot, followed by the ambulances and as we came to the threshold of their home, they rushed towards us with their children, shaking and crying with shock. At the door of the house the ambulance lights exposed the bodies of four men, lacerated by shrapnel wounds- the skull and brains of one exposed, others whose limbs had been severed off. The four were the husbands and brothers of the women, who had ventured out to search for bread and food for their families. Their bodies were still warm as we struggled to carry them on stretchers over the uneven ground, their blood staining the earth and our clothes. As we prepared to leave the area our torches illuminated the slumped figure of another man, his abdomen and chest shredded by shrapnel. With no space in the other ambulances, and the imminent possibility of sniper fire, we were forced to take his body in the back of the ambulance carrying the women and children. One of the little girls stared at me before coming into my arms and telling me her name- Fidaa', which means to sacrifice. She stared at the body bag, asking when he would wake up.
Once back at the hospital we received word that the Israeli army had shelled Al Quds hospital, that the ensuing fire risked spreading and that there had been a 20-minute time-frame negotiated to evacuate patients, doctors and residents in the surrounding houses. By the time we got up there in a convoy of ambulances, hundreds of people had gathered. With the shelling of the UNRWA compound and the hospital there was a deep awareness that nowhere in Gaza is safe, or sacred.
We helped evacuate those assembled to near-by hospitals and schools that have been opened to receive the displaced. The scenes were deeply saddening- families, desperate and carrying their children, blankets and bags of their possessions venturing out in the cold night to try to find a corner of a school or hospital to shelter in. The paramedic we were with referred to the displacement of the over 46,000 Gazan Palestinians now on the move as a continuation of the ongoing Nakba of dispossession and exile seen through generation after generation enduring massacre after massacre.
Today's death toll was over 75, one of the bloodiest days since the start of this carnage. Over 1,110 Palestinians have been killed in the past 21 days. 367 of those have been children. The humanitarian infrastructure of Gaza is on its knees- already devastated by years of comprehensive siege. There has been a deliberate, systematic destruction of all places of refuge. There are no safe places here, for anyone.
And yet, in the face of so much desecration, this community has remained intact. The social solidarity and support between people is inspiring, and the steadfastness of Gaza continues to humble and inspire all those who witness it. Their level of sacrifice demands our collective response- and recognition that demonstrations are not enough. Gaza, Palestine and its people continue to live, breathe, resist and remain intact and this refusal to be broken is a call and challenge to us all.
Caoimhe Butterly is an Irish human rights activist working in Jabaliya and Gaza City as a volunteer with ambulance services and as co-coordinator for the Free Gaza Movement, She can be contacted on 00972-598273960 or at sahara78 (at) hotmail.co.uk
Message from Catherine aged nine
Women in Black
Women in Black is meant for peace and to stop war.
The women in black stand with signs, posters and banners to show that war is not nice at all and that you don't need to fight to get over war, you can talk about it and make agreements.
So if you stand with them on Saturdays you can help to try and stop war and bring peace.
You can try to help people lead better lives by standing and trying to make the public agree.
I am sure that the people that we are trying to save from wars would bevery grateful.
Lots of humans are in danger and need your help because some people have been choosing to do wrong instead of right, as you can see the people that do this to them are just unfriendly and not many people want to be like that, so help to make others of your kind survive instead of a nasty little group win over many lives.
Just dress in black on Saturdays and come to Princes Street Edinburgh and find the women in black they will have signs, posters and banners waiting for you.
Friday, December 28, 2007 at the Women in Black vigil in Jerusalem marking 20 years of WIB:
http://www.scottishpsc.org.uk/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=2054&Itemid=363