Dancing in the rain at Sharon's farm

(...) We have come to protest against the occupation - but first we had to contend with the elements. When our cavalcade arrived at the Prime Minister's farm in the Negev and we emerged from the cars, we found a real thunderstorm in progress, rare for this part of the country. There we were, all getting soaked together - anarchists who disdain all political parties as parts of a corrupt power structure, left-wing party activists who hoped to garner some votes, and hundreds of young people who intended to have a good time and take a political stand in one and the same act, and the famous DJ Doctor Motte who had come especially all the way from Berlin. The long preparations seemed futile, as the specially-designated field was fast becoming a quagmire into which the truck with the sound equipment could not possibly venture.

Across that field and beyond the sheets of rain, it was possible to see the formidable defences of Ariel Sharon's sheep farm: a moat, now full of rushing flood water; beyond it, a high fence; beyond that, a patrol road with armed guards in a jeep... "This is one of the biggest private farms in the country, and Sharon got it from the state for next to nothing. There is enough land here for a whole Kibbutz" remarked Meretz Knesset Member Avshalom Vilan, himself a member of a nearby Kibbutz. "Before 1948, Sharon's farm used to be a whole Palestinian village. When he got control over the land, he had the last Arab houses bulldozed, leaving no trace" said one of the anarchists. Meanwhile, some of the organizers were working furiously under the driving rain. A huge plastic sheet with the words "Rave Against the Occupation" was dismantled, turned horizontal, lashed to the sound truck (parked at the side of the road) and secured to stakes driven into the ground. A more or less sheltered space was created, and the loudspeakers boomed: "Attention, please! We are starting - rain or no rain! As you know, we have come here to hold a Party of Salute and Thanks-Giving for our Prime Minister, to thank him for two wonderful years.

Thank you for the peace, Mr. Sharon, and thanks a lot for the security! And now, we have been informed that the PM is right now in residence, in the house just behind the trees over there.

Surely we are not going to disappoint him. Dance - everybody is going to dance! Everybody!" And we did. When the hypnotic music began, feet started moving as if of themselves, and everybody joined in - also the old fogies who had come to observe and perhaps distribute a few leaflets. The space under the improvised awning was far from enough, and many dancers spilled out into the rain and mud, dancing with abandon, discarding coats and sweaters as their bodies heated, dancing and dancing and dancing in defiance and abandon. (It did help that the rain was gradually slackening off.) Everything was abruptly cut off, by the policeman who climbed unto the truck and simply cut off the music. It seemed that we have broken the terms of the permit by dancing in a place some 30 metres distant from the originally designated spot. The fact that the original spot was ankle-deep in mud did not matter, a permit was a permit and its terms were precise.

The frustrated dancers were furious. "Police state! Police state!" they shouted, and "Rave - Yes, Occupation - no!". But there is no way to dance and hold a rave without music, and the sound equipment was in unbreakable police custody. There was one thing left to do. "OK, they say we have to that field - let's go there, then, even without music! Let's get as close as we can!" called Shahaf, one of the young organisers. And several dozens did follow him, splashing through the heavy mud, shaking weary fists at the security guards across the fence. Somebody had a sign: "We will not be sheep in Sharon's herd!".

The police followed immediately: "No further, no further! This is as far as your permit allows!". One long-haired Tel-Aviv youth did stride boldly forward - and urinated straight into the moat. "The police may tell me where to dance and where to demonstrate, but I will piss where I please!".

arch/ive/ief (2000 - 2005)