"This is a new village," the farmer explains. "We came here to better farm our land." Al Muttilla might be new by Palestinian standards, but there have been people living here for over a century farming the land, building homes and raising families. Now home to about 250 people, this tiny village perched high in the eastern hills of Jenin seems like a place that could have easily been overlooked by the Turkish, British and Jordanian administrators that ruled in turn here for the first 70 years of its existence. However, the sound of bulldozers and other heavy machinery makes it clear that Palestine's current masters have taken a closer interest in affairs here. Al Muttilla stands on the route of the Wall and Israeli contractors are busy bulldozing, digging and blasting their way along the crest of the hill just beyond the last of the outlaying houses.
The village has lost land to the construction and on the far side of the site the land is now inaccessible. Olive and carob trees have been removed from this area, the farmer who acts as our guide believes that they have been taken away by the site workers for sale in Israel. A 1 km wide exclusion zone has been established along the construction area, with soldiers threatening anyone brave enough to farm his land in the shadow of the Wall site. We are told that one man was beaten by soldiers for the crime of grazing his animals on his own land close to the Wall area. The farmer tells us that last Saturday his brother, seeing that the construction site was unmanned due to the Jewish Sabbath, took the opportunity to plow and sow on a patch of land close by. His work was unimpeded. However, the next day, soldiers, seeing what he had done, drove jeeps and a bulldozer back and forth over the land to undo his work.
The water resources of the village have also come under attack. Four water cisterns have been dynamited as the workers cleared the land for the foundations of the Wall, another 3 are inaccessible. These cisterns, dug deep into the rock store the water that is used in homes as well as for the sheep, goats and crops that form the basis of the local economy. There is no access to piped water from elsewhere and the village has always been self sufficient. With the loss of these cisterns the village now faces a real threat of a water crisis. A local farmer lamented the loss of these cisterns not only for the loss of water resources but for a loss of heritage, he made the plausible claim that that the cisterns dated back to Roman times. At the very least, they represented a long tradition of cultivation and land use in this area, a tradition under threat from the actions of the Israeli Occupation forces.
From what I am told, it is clear that the whole village is effected by the construction of the Wall. One man tells me, "This village is a prison." The Wall site blocks movement to the east and north whilst the one road in and out of the village is regularly blocked by Israeli army units in jeeps and APCs. The whole area is now a military zone. Families from the village once picnicked in the woodland beyond the Wall site, children played on neighbouring hillsides and people were free to come and go as they pleased. All this is now impossible, access is denied. As we leave the village another man tells me, "They are not just stealing our lands. They are stealing our lives and the lives of our children."