No, Bill Hijarah is not someone’s name. In fact, it’s not a name at all. It’s a phrase in Arabic. To be phonetically more accurate, it should have been written: "be al hijarah," or "b’ll hijarah," which is how it sounds when you say it fast. The phrase means: with the stones.
"B’ll hijarah, b’ll hijarah" is a cry I once heard while watching the news on television some decade ago or maybe longer. The cry became so engraved in my soul, I can never watch a spin doctor from the Jewish Establishment labor to denigrate the Palestinian people without the scene which gave birth to that cry come to memory and scream at me: "Don’t believe a word of this."
The scene is that of a young Palestinian woman running out of her house, one toddler on her arm and another toddler following her. She was not running away from something, she was running ahead to confront something. That something was an Israeli tank that was bigger than the house. The monster tank had come to demolish the house, and upon hearing it approach, the woman came out of the house with her children. She put down the child on her arm, picked up a stone and cried out to the toddlers: "b’ll hijarah, b’ll hijarah," as she threw the first stone at the advancing tank hoping against hope to stop its advance on the house.
No word, no poetry, no art, nothing that can be expressed verbally or otherwise may convey the majesty and the glory of the human spirit as it was expressed by this Palestinian mother and her children. And no envoy from the Jewish Establishment is big enough, smart enough or powerful enough to change this reality. But when someone from that Establishment goes on television to try and denigrate the Palestinian people, they only prove that lowlife can sometimes exist alongside a glorious majesty.
The glorious majesty is that of the Semitic Palestinian woman, her two toddlers and all those who hunger for justice while standing up to injustice with no more than a stone small enough to fill the hand of a child, and a heart big enough to envelop a love of life that no lowlife can ever grasp.
The lowlife is that of the commanders who send their tanks to demolish the homes of those whose homeland they once plundered and whose children they now kill lest they multiply and gain the political clout by which to reclaim what was taken from them by force of arm.
The lowlife is that of the spin doctors from the Jewish Establishment who go on television and denigrate the Palestinian people so as to say that Palestinians do not belong in the land where they have lived continuously since the beginning of time.
The lowlife is that of characters who made a mess of their lives throughout history in every corner of the planet then committed the largest identity theft in history by claiming they are the Semites and by throwing the anti-Semitic accusation at anyone who refuses to applaud their genocidal slaughter of the Semitic Palestinians.
The lowlife are the spin doctors from the Jewish Establishment who create imaginary paradigms that are mirror images of reality by turning reality upside down and by enforcing the paradigms through schemes that closely define the meaning of lowlife.
Finally, the glorious majesty is that of all the people of goodwill who will chip away at the phony paradigms one single grain at a time until the monster that is producing them is exhausted and depleted by attrition.
If a young Palestinian woman and her toddlers can brave a monster Israeli tank, we can all brave the monstrosity of the Jewish Lobby which seeks to destroy the lives, the careers and the reputations of those who seek to neutralize its toxic activities. And we should all seek to neutralize the Jewish Lobby so that humanity may live as it was meant to live, free of a constant source of poisonous intrigues and venomous demagoguery.
There is no loftier goal for all of us to accomplish together as one human family than this lofty goal.