A study of Palestinian working conditions in Israeli settlements

Back to the wall: a study of Palestinian working conditions in Israeli settlements
by Simone Korkus, Ma'an News Agency

04/04 /2007

Back to the wall

It's six o' clock on a cold winter morning in Tulkarem, a major Palestinian city in the West Bank.

In front of a narrow iron door in the long concrete wall, that runs along Taybeh street, opposite the garage of Adjib, hundreds of Palestinians in overalls and sweaters with sandwich bags in their hands, have gathered and are waiting patiently for the door to open.

They slap their arms around their bodies to keep warm and in the light of the projectors on top of the wall their breath makes little clouds.

Behind the iron door lies the Israeli industrial estate with the poetic name 'Nizzane Ha Shalom' (literally: buds of peace) and for many Palestinians this name symbolizes their last chance for work.

Nizzane Ha Shalom, which is situated between Tulkarem on one side, and the separation wall and the Israeli Highway 6 on the other, was established in 1995 as one of nine planned industrial estates in the West Bank. There are seven factories, which provide jobs for some 700 Palestinians in various industries such as the production of cartons, plastic spare parts, pesticides and poisonous liquids.

"It's better than no work at all", comments M. (35) on his job at the carton factory 'Tal El Iesoef Ve Mihzoer Ltd'. M. urges not to publish his name. This father of five comes here every day – six times a week, nine hours a day – for an hourly wage of 11 shekels; that is more than 7 shekels under the Israeli minimum wage. And for this salary M. literally works himself to death.

Why? Because he is a privileged man, he says.

"Of course I know the situation is bad, but at least I have a job. I can feed my family and send my children to school".

But sometimes M. is overwhelmed with fear. Will his boss dismiss him if he asks for a raise or if he'll be late at work or becomes ill? It happened before. Latecomers are punished and do not get work nor salary for at least a week. Rebels and the ill and weak are fired on the spot.

"In my place the boss can find ten others immediately", M. explains. And therefore he leaves his home by five in the morning, does not ask for the minimum salary, works when he is ill or during the holiday of Id Al Adha and he has never heard of vacation.

His ten years older colleague J. knows what happens if you protest.

"I have worked already ten years in the Israeli wood factory here. The company doesn't have a name and I doubt that it is even registered. I get 100 shekels per day for 9 hours of work. We work here with 30 employees. There's hardly any protection against the sun or rain and the factory hall has no flooring. In the winter we stand all day in the mud. There is no toilet and we are not allowed to go out, because this iron door only opens at four. Can you imagine how dirty it gets, with thirty men? Two years ago I finally found the courage to complain. You know what happened? I was sacked on the spot and sent home without pay. Two weeks later the phone rang. It was my boss. He said he would give me a last chance, but I had to shut up". And that's what J. does. He doesn't complain about the lack of protective clothes and he was silent when the boy Namer incidentally shot himself in the abdomen with the electric stapler and was sent home without pay.

But he admits he's furious. "The worst thing is that the manager doesn't really care. It's not that he treats us as animals. He just doesn't see us at all".

The last straw

As a matter of fact, the construction of the barrier has made Nizzane Ha Shalom – as well as Israeli settlements and other estates near the barrier - more attractive for Israeli businessmen, says Shahiye Yacub, representative of the Palestinian ministry of labor in Tulkarem.

"From one side, the building of the fence has worsened the already chronic problem of Palestinian unemployment; 150,000 Palestinians who worked legally or not in Israel before 2000 can no longer go there. And tens of thousands of farmers are separated from their own lands by the wall. Today only an average of 10,000 – this depends on the security situation – can enter Israel. Therefore the number of cheap Palestinian laborers is growing. These people are desperate and willing to take any job at practically any price. From the other side, Israeli businesses feel confident about estates near the wall because of the high level of security".

According to the Palestinian Central Bureau of Statistics, the unemployment rate reached 28.4% in the fourth quarter of 2006. This might seem relatively low, but one should bear in mind that more than half of the Palestinian population is children and therefore the number of dependents is high. Sometimes a worker has to provide for as many as ten persons.

Yacub: "Officially there are about 18,000 Palestinians working in Israeli factories and settlements in the West Bank, but I cannot even estimate how many are working without a license, especially in the agricultural sector".

Injuries and amputations

Meanwhile, a group of 15 workers have gathered around us in front of the iron door in Tulkarem. They are whispering and nodding.

Abdelatif Abu Raye, a young man with bright blue eyes, is brave enough to tell me his story. Several months ago his hand was sliced in two when he was operating a cutting machine in the carton factory. After the accident, the employer sent him home and stopped paying his salary.

Because of this accident Abu Raye is paralyzed on one side .The hospital in Tulkarem couldn't perform the rather complicated operation that could have saved the motion in his hand and he is not allowed to go to an Israeli hospital that could help him.

Abu Raye: "My employer didn't pay me any indemnification and because of my injury I can't find work elsewhere. My magnetic card [the permit to work in Israeli areas] was revoked. I talked to a lawyer who started court procedures in Israel, but I cannot even meet him, because I'm not allowed to cross the checkpoint".

Another worker, Mohammed Abu Harma, cannot repeat his story anymore. Five years ago he was asked to make a fence around the factory plant of 'Rational Systems' in Nizzane Ha Shalom, recalls his son, Majed.

"They used plastic barrels with chemical waste to support the fence. One of these barrels exploded and my father was injured in the head. He died four days later from his injuries, leaving my mother with eight children to fend for themselves. We never received any pension or indemnification".

Majed, then 22, had to break off his studies and find a job to provide for the family.

"We have been in court procedures with my father's employer for the last couple of years, but the judges haven't reached any conclusions yet".

Others join in with stories about amputated fingers, injuries and breathing problems occurred during their work in one of the factories. Listening to these Palestinians it seems that work accidents because of occupational, safety and health hazards at the places of employment are common practice here.

At exactly half past six the iron door opens and the mass of men disappears. The door closes by seven and will remain closed for the next nine hours.

The symbiosis

It's a strange sensation to enter the estate a little later from the other, Israeli side. Here no locked iron doors, no long queues of workers, no separation barrier. At the junction with Highway 6 you turn to the right and pass a sleepy guard at the entrance gate. The high walls around the estate hide the view of Tulkarem and give the impression that you're in Israel.
We try to arrange meetings with two owners of companies, but we do not get further than the secretary who politely tells us off.

Gil Letterman, the owner of Rational Systems – a company in polyurethane parts for printers and medical equipment – is willing to talk and invites us to come and have a look for ourselves.
He started his company 25 years ago in the coastal city of Netanya, but with the outbreak of the Intifada it became more and more difficult for his Palestinian workers to come to work and therefore Letterman moved part of his activities – the casting of parts, painting, inspection and packing – to this area.

"Because of its location beside the wall, it's easy to get here. An additional advantage is that this estate is declared a so-called 'C zone' and we do not pay 'arnona' [Israeli tax]," explains Letterman.

Some factories might have had other motives as well to move to this area. Letterman's neighbor "Geshuri Industry" for instance, which is probably the largest factory on the Tulkarem industrial estate and specializes in pesticides and other chemical products, was until 1985 located in Kfar Saba, but local residents complained of its horrible fumes and it was moved to the West Bank. Also neighboring residents from Tulkarem and 'Lev Ha Sharon' on the Israeli side complained but were unsuccessful to move Geshuri away from Tulkarem.

The factory plant of Rational Systems looks well organized and workers wear protective clothing. Letterman insists that there are no problems with salaries and safety requirements.

But what about the accident with Abu Harma we heard of?

He admits that he had problems with subcontractors in the past, like Abu Harma, but these were solved legally.

"There are Palestinian workers who have been with us since the establishment of the company and now I even employ the second generation, their sons. I know their families; I was at their wedding parties. These are decent reliable people, who are well paid. You should understand that Palestinians benefit from the Israeli factories here, at least they have work, and I bet you that they earn more in Nizzane Ha Shalom than with a Palestinian employer in Tulkarem".

With 50% of the Palestinian population living below the poverty line - that international organizations put at $2.10 a day - Letterman might be right and Palestinians might indeed be glad to be able to work and feed their families. But the question is under which conditions and for which price?

Here, between the separation barrier and the Palestinian city of Tulkarem, the Israeli-Palestinian paradox suddenly becomes painfully clear. Occupation and conflict have created an intense symbiosis between Israeli employers, who under favorable conditions moved to the West Bank, and Palestinian workers, in need of work. If you liquidate the employers by economic sanctions or closure, you also kill the Palestinian employees, and if Palestinian employees are not allowed to work, the Israeli companies cannot exist.

Structural problem

In the year 2007 these stories seem incredible, but they are not unique.

Salwa Alinat, representative of Kav La Oved, an organization which protects workers' rights, started an information and aid program for Palestinian workers in Israeli employment in the West Bank one and a half years ago and heard similar and worse stories everywhere.

"I talked to date pickers from Jericho, who were employed in an Israeli settlement and - during the harvest period in April and May – had to sit for nine hours nonstop on a palm tree in the burning sun, without even a toilet break. And they didn't even get the minimum wage.

"A Palestinian woman who is cleaning houses of settlers endures the harassment of the guards at the entry of the settlement, in order not to lose her work. I found factory workers who work long hours with insufficient protection against hazardous circumstances and receive 10 shekels or less. The worst of it all are the stories about child labor. During the summer months, children as young as 12 or 13 work in two shifts of 12 hours each. I met a boy of only 10 who works in a warehouse in the Jordan Valley during the summer break but also in the evenings after school, because his father is unemployed and his family need the money."

The West Bank has been divided through barriers, checkpoints and roadblocks into three large economic centers – north, middle, and south. As a result, the production and interests are localized, Alinat explains. Palestinians cannot travel freely between these centers and therefore also the information remains limited to local data.

"People do not understand that we have a structural problem in the West Bank", says Alinat.

A system of permits and cards

It is not easy to legally obtain a job in one of the settlements or industrial estates, because you have to have a permit from the military authority – the so-called 'magnet card ' – to enter the settlements and the estates, explains Alinat. Some workers therefore work on the 'black' market with no contract or insurance at all.

You only receive the card after thorough screening for possible security risks by the 'Shabak', the Israel Security Agency.

Alinat: "The motives for granting or refusing the permit are not clear. There are workers whose permits were rejected for security reasons whereby they had no criminal record or connections to what Israel would describe as terrorist organizations".

Subsequently, the employer has to apply for a work permit (Ishur Avoda). The costs for this permit, around 1,200 shekels, have to be paid upfront by the employee and even before starting his job, he already spends a small fortune.

Alinat: "This permit is worth gold for the Palestinians and forms an important trump card for employers and sometimes leads to blackmail. If he doesn't act according to the boss's instructions, he loses his card and his job".

Research

It is still hard to believe that this, almost colonial, system takes place right under our nose and nobody seems to know, or change it.

We decide together with the Palestinian guide, the human rights activist Zakaria Sadea, to do some small field research.

Our first stop is at the industrial zone of Karnei Shomron, a settlement from 1978 with 6,500 inhabitants, south of Tulkarem. In the industrial area we count ten Israeli factories.

In front of the steel factory 'G.T.', which is surrounded by high walls - according to the Palestinians, it produces parts for the army - we bump into Hakan (46). Hakan has already worked for nine years for 'G.T.' but he can't stand it anymore.

"I work ten hours a day and earn 100 shekels. My boss is very tough. The other day a block of 200 kilos fell on the foot of my colleague and the boss told him to continue working, because the pain would pass. I'm not insured and I'm worried what will happen to my family should I get hurt here. It is just not worth it".

We try to talk to Hakan's employer, but the gate remains closed. Snoopers are not welcome here.

At the parking of the neighboring factory in metal refuse bins – we didn't find its name – a peculiar incident occurs.

A young Palestinian boy approaches our car and whispers through the half open window, while his eyes go restlessly from us to the factory entrance: "I'm working here and I earn 9 shekels per hour but I can't prove it because I don't get a pay slip or any other document".

When an older man walks towards us – later we understand that he's the supervisor - he hisses, "Don't tell him anything", and suddenly disappears between the parked cars.

But Faleh - the Palestinian supervisor – insists that the working conditions are perfect.

"Palestinians should be grateful to have a job here. Everybody earns a fair wage. I get for example 11,000 shekels a month".

Puzzled by the discrepancy in the stories, we leave the plant. Who knows who's wrong and who's right?

Are all these workers just telling stories or is this an indication of a phenomenon Alinat told me exists within some factories: a kind of colonial 'divide and rule' system, whereby certain 'good' Palestinians get favors – better salaries and conditions – in exchange for information about the conduct of other workers and the daily control?

Barkan

Via the industries in Alfei Menashe and Emanuel, where we hear similar complaints from workers, we drive to Barkan, in the east of the West Bank, situated on the top of a hill near Ariel.

Barkan has existed for 25 years and is, with its 120 factories, one of the major industrial estates in the West Bank. Obviously Barkan has plans for further extension, because down the slope we notice construction work.

The factories produce products varying from plastic, metal, to food and textiles and employ some 5,000 workers.

Some of the products are exported to the European market, according to report released in 2006 by United Civilians for Peace.

The European multinational Unilever has a majority share in Beigel & Beigel, where some 50 Palestinians work and Ketter Plastics sells its products in Holland and Belgium.

The streets are empty. Most factories lie behind walls and fences.

Via the intercom at the gate we try to talk to several employers, but we're sent away.

At "Oram Joram Arizot", a factory in plastic wrapping material, the director, Ronnie Kaufman, invites us into his office. We're not allowed to enter the factory hall, says Kaufman, because we're not insured.

This factory with an annual turnover of $ 5,000,000 employs 20 workers, half of them Israeli and half Palestinian.

We hear the same story. According to Kaufman, the relations are good and he calls a Palestinian to confirm it.

Ibrahim, an elderly man with lines around his eyes, has already worked here for 18 years and says he's satisfied with the job. "I earn 5,000 shekels and there is a good atmosphere. What more could one want?"

But when we return to our car, another employee who recognized Sadea calls him on his cellular phone and warns: "Don't be deceived by Ibrahim's story. We get only nine shekels and work ten hours a day".

Legal chaos

Our confusion is complete when we try to check which law governs the relation between an Israeli company and a Palestinian worker on Palestinian soil. Is it Israeli labor law or maybe military law? Or even Palestinian law?

According to Juval Livnat, am attorney specialized in labor law and legal advisor of Kav La Oved, it is unclear.

"The industrial estates and the settlements are usually situated in so-called 'C zones', which means that they fall under Israeli jurisdiction. You would expect that also Israeli labor law applies, but the labor court decided that Jordanian law is applicable for Palestinian workers, unless it violates public interest. Such a decision is multi-interpretable and open-ended.

Moreover, the Jordanian law dates back from 1967 – before the Six Day War – and gives workers very limited rights and protection regarding working hours, safety regulations and vacations. The result is that Palestinian workers are legally discriminated against compared to their Israeli colleagues at the same workplace, and this is unacceptable".

The Palestinians do seem to have a right to the Israeli minimum wage, according to an Israeli military order from the past, but the Minhal Izrahi, the civil Administration for Judea and Samaria, who has to supervise this order, is failing.

Livnat: "I sent complaints about false remuneration forms – the employer declared for instance less days than the worker worked – and falsified pay slips to the Minhal Izrahi, but they did not follow them up".

In a democratic state the solution seems obvious. Why don't these Palestinians sue their employers in an Israeli labor court?

But if they have the courage to do so, these Palestinians are confronted with yet another barrier. They are considered foreign residents in Israel who might evade paying their debts and as such they have to deposit large sums of money to guarantee payment of court expenses, which could mount up to 5,000 shekels even before procedures have started.

And international law cannot help them either, explains a representative of the UN organization ILO (International Labor Organization), because there is legal uncertainty as to whether Israel is bound to apply international treaty obligations relating to labor standards in the occupied territories.

The authority

Legal chaos, insecurity about rights, lack of information because witnesses are afraid to talk and a total dependency between employers' and employees' stories seem to have transformed the West Bank into a legal 'no-man's land' where everything is possible and nothing forbidden.

We turn to the only independent institution that should and could know all the facts: the Minhal Izrahi.

According to the State of Israel's 'Measures to improve the welfare of the population of the territories,' this institution is responsible: "(…) for the administration of civil activities (…) for the welfare and in the better interest of the Arab population" and one of the measures that is mentioned is "establishment of the minimum wage".

But the responsible representative for labor cases, Itzhak Levi, is not authorized to give us any information about the number of Israeli factories in the West Bank, their number of employees, or if the 'Minhal' knows about similar complaints and what they plan to do about it.

He refers us to Capt. Tzidki Maman, who promises a prompt reply. This was on February 18. We have not heard from him since.

And while Maman is looking for answers, the Palestinian worker M. in the industrial estate of Tulkarem keeps on working in silence.

For him there is no other solution.

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Simone Korkus is a Dutch journalist and lawyer who has been working in the Palestinian territories since 2002.