Following the example of Martin Luther King, Betty Williams and Cesar Chavez we can learn how successful non-violent resistance is.
Restraint in the face of provocation is not always easy, but every outburst is another weapon in your opponent’s propaganda arsenal.
Rachel Corrie was one such role model.
14 years ago yesterday, on March 16, Rachel Corrie was tragically killed. Only 23 years old, she stood between an Israeli Army bulldozer and a Palestinian home in Rafah, Gaza. She was killed after only two months in Gaza.
Despite loud speakers, high-visibility jackets and flailing arms; the armoured Israeli Army bulldozer ploughed on, fracturing her skull. She was rushed to hospital but her injuries were too severe and she died the same day.
Israel claims that the driver had limited visibility from the cab of the bulldozer and labelled the incident an accident; clearing the driver of any wrongdoing. Fellow activists at the scene insist to this day that it was impossible for the driver to not see the woman standing directly in front of his vehicle and not hear the amplified cries from the groups megaphones.
The preceding investigation by the Israeli government was heavily criticised by Amnesty International, Human Rights Watch and other rights groups as not being “transparent, credible or thorough”
Rachel’s parents continue her work through the Rachel Corrie Foundation for Peace and Justice which supports grassroots nonviolent global action against injustice.
Today, Rachel Corrie’s name it uttered with reverence through the occupied Palestinian territories. Every Palestinian knows of her courageous and inspiring work and a street in Ramallah now bears her name.
This is a poem by Rachel Corrie from just a couple of months before she died:
Leaving Olympia January 2003
We are all born and someday we’ll all die. Most likely to some degree alone. What if our aloneness isn’t a tragedy? What if our aloneness is what allows us to speak the truth without being afraid? What if our aloneness is what allows us to adventure – to experience the world as a dynamic presence – as a changeable, interactive thing? If I lived in Bosnia or Rwanda or who knows where else, needless death wouldn’t be a distant symbol to me, it wouldn’t be a metaphor, it would be a reality. And I have no right to this metaphor. But I use it to console myself. To give a fraction of meaning to something enormous and needless. This realization. This realization that I will live my life in this world where I have privileges. I can’t cool boiling waters in Russia. I can’t be Picasso. I can’t be Jesus. I can’t save the planet single-handedly. I can wash dishes.
Information about The Rachel Corrie Foundation - CLICK HERE -
Information about the International Solidarity Movement - CLICK HERE -
