No place to call home
When Basem Beni’s house was destroyed, a small, dark cave in the heart of the West Bank was the only place she could find for her children to sleep
Basem, a mother of ten, knew when she saw the demolition notice plastered on the side of her house it was what she had been dreading for years.
Like many of her neighbours before her, she read that her house, which her husband had built brick by brick, was to be bulldozed by the Israeli army.
Just two months later, at 8am when her children were still asleep, the army arrived. “The whole thing happened in minutes,” Basem recalls.
“When I saw the bulldozers I pleaded with the soldiers but they hit me and destroyed our house anyway. I felt like I wanted to die. We didn’t know where to go or what to do. This has happened to us three times.”
Homes threatened
Around 60,000 Bedouins used to live in the area of Negev, but after the Six-Day War between Israelis and Palestinians in 1967, most fled or were moved to Jordan. The 11,000 people who remained now live in the southern hills and western reaches of the West Bank.
Like many Bedouins, the Beni family live in an area that was left under temporary Israeli rule following the Oslo Declaration of Principles in 1993.
Today the Israeli Authorities have a policy of demolishing any structure built in the area without a building permit. Most Bedouins cannot obtain one and continue to have their homes threatened.
“The army say we cannot live on certain areas of land because it is not the right area,” Basem says sadly. “We find this hard to accept. We see the land as everyone’s to share.”
The army say we cannot live on certain areas of land because it is not the right area. We find this hard to accept. We see the land as everyone’s to share
We work with the Jerusalem Legal Aid Centre (JLAC) helping families such as Basem’s with legal support when their homes are threatened. Often families can be allowed to stay in their homes for a few more months, and sometimes years, by freezing demolition orders.
Always waiting
Mohammed Mlaihat, the leader of the Bedouins in the West Bank, is 63 years old, father and grandfather to a large family.
“We are afraid and we are troubled. We don’t know when the army is going to come. Sometimes they leave us alone for a couple of months and then they come again. But we are always waiting for them.”
JLAC paid for a lawyer for Mohammed when he went to court to try and prevent everything he owned being demolished. Eventually, his case went to the high court and the order was frozen.
Thankfully, JLAC’s success rate is high. In 2008, it supported 150 families in trying to freeze demolition orders with a success rate of 95 per cent. The people who work there understand justice is as much about dignity and human rights as having ownership of land.
Issam, JLAC project coordinator, says: “I know what being marginalised really means and what changes we can make to Bedouin families. We have a shared responsibility to fight for justice together.
“The future for the Bedouin people is fragile but with ongoing support they can continue to fight for the right to hold onto their identity and preserve their way of life for future generations.”

![Basem Beni with her youngest daughter Amal in their home, which is under threat of demolition.in the West Bank, Palestine. [Laura Storr]](/var/storage/images/about-us/where-we-work/west-bank-and-gaza/images/basem-and-her-daughter/1150400-2-eng-GB/basem-and-her-daughter_1column50_12space_landscape.jpg)


