The National, March 13, 2010
Cindy and Craig Corrie, the parents of the American activist who was crushed to death by an Israeli army bulldozer in 2003, reflect on their daughter’s last moments. Rachel stood, using her body as a shield to guard the home of the Palestinian family she’d lived with for two months in the Gaza Strip. The soldier, driving a 64-ton armored Caterpillar, pressed forward.
“[Rachel] knew that those children were behind that wall, she knew that both those families were in that house,” Mrs. Corrie says. “Knowing that they were back there was she supposed to step aside and let the bulldozer go?
“She slept on the floor of the parents’ bedroom with these children. They couldn’t sleep in their own bedroom because of the shooting from the Israeli military into the house at night. These are human beings and Rachel grew to know and love them… I couldn’t have asked her to do anything less than what she did.”
Mrs. Corrie adds, “I know in my heart that she also believed that bulldozer was going to stop. It had on other occasions. She didn’t expect to die that day.”
But she did. And on Wednesday, an Israeli judge began hearing the civil suit the Corries have brought against the Defense Ministry. On the advice of the US State Department, the family filed the case in 2005—two years after an army investigation cleared the soldiers involved in the incident of any wrongdoing and accused Rachel of “illegal, irresponsible, and dangerous behavior.”
The Corries and their lawyer, Hussein Abu Hussein, say that this initial investigation lacked transparency and was not thorough. The civil suit, which claims that Rachel’s death occurred due to the Israeli army’s intent or negligence and seeks unspecified damages, is an attempt to shed light on Rachel’s death.
Speaking to The National after the first day of the trial, which included testimony from an activist who witnessed Rachel’s death, the family says they hope the proceedings will bring “truth and some resolution.”
“The verdict is the ability to get some sort of accountability [and] responsibility. It’s the only way to do it,” Mr. Corrie says.
The family says that the trial is a positive step—for themselves and Israel.
“[Steven] Plaut [a right-wing Israeli commentator] compared our coming here and going to court to having the rockets come in on Haifa,” Mr. Corrie says. “I feel just the opposite way. Rather than taking a court case as something that’s an attack, I think it’s the first step in healing.”
The Corries are quick to add that they are grateful for the support they have received from Israelis.
“An Israeli [volunteer] sat between our family members yesterday and translated,” Mrs. Corrie says.
“The serious problem with translation is with our eyewitnesses [who are from the UK and the US],” Mrs. Corrie explains. “They all speak English, they don’t speak Hebrew and for the Israeli court everything that’s said that’s going to go into the record has to be said in Hebrew in the court.”
After numerous mistranslations were noted, the judge requested a new translator—but finished the day with an interpreter the Corries and Hussein felt was inadequate.
“Our concerns, of course, are that we’re dealing with the need for very specific details and information and the need for it to be clear,” Mrs. Corrie says.
The Corries are also anxious to hear the expert witness who will testify on the army’s manuals that govern the use of bulldozers, like the one that killed their daughter. “According to our attorney, if there are any civilians or any people around, you’re not supposed to operate.”
Drawing on the year he spent as a soldier in Southeast Asia during the Vietnam War, manning a bulldozer that was used to clear away jungle, Mr. Corrie adds, “You watch what’s in front of that blade.”
The family was disappointed to learn that the judge would hear the testimony of the state’s witnesses at a separate, later time. This includes the soldier that operated the bulldozer, a man they still haven’t met.
Mr Corrie comments, “If he could find a way to mourn our loss, and understand what our loss is, I could mourn his loss—I believe he lost his humanity at that time—and that’s when we could start to heal.”
He adds, “You can blame the soldiers, and there is a reason to do that, but also we’re told by B’Tselem [an Israeli NGO] that in 2004 by far the highest cause of death in the Israeli army is suicide. The soldiers are victims as well.”
Mr. Corrie’s statement highlights the fact that the couple views their daughter’s death as more than a personal loss.
“The broader picture is important to me,” Mrs. Corrie says. “I feel we are in a privileged position. We’ve had a great deal of support by many people to be able to bring this case here… We definitely want people to make the link between what’s happening here and the lack of accessibility the Palestinians have to the courts and what that means in terms of how the military is able to operate in West Bank and Gaza.”
The Israeli NGO Yesh Din reports that Israeli soldiers are prosecuted in less than six percent of cases in which they stand accused of a criminal offense, including unlawful shooting that led to injury or death of a Palestinian or international.
The Corries, who maintain a close relationship with the Nasrallahs, the Gazan family that Rachel gave her life for, also hope to highlight the human rights abuses occurring in the Occupied Palestinian Territories.
Mr. Corrie remarks, “The attack and the blockade there is horrendous, you look at these kids—and Kareem, the oldest, is now halfway through college, he just switched last spring his major to English. But what’s going to happen to him? He’s in a prison. What’s going to happen to this young man? You look at the incredible devastation of their infrastructure, the civilian, the governing infrastructure, miles of homes, destroyed.”
During Operation Cast Lead, the Corries spoke to the Nasrallahs on the phone. “The attacks were happening on these families,” Mr. Corrie recalls, “and we were talking to Khaled [Nasrallah] who had taken his family to a [bomb shelter] under a school and he was saying the same thing to us that Rachel said when she was first in his house. Khaled said to me, ‘Can you hear that? It’s the bombs?’ With Rachel it was a large machine gun on a tank.”
The Corries found their daughter’s calls and letters to be terrifying.
“When Rachel first went,” Mr. Corrie says, “I was frightened for her and concerned. I wanted her to volunteer in a soup kitchen somewhere. I remember calling her the day before she was to leave and I said, ‘Rachel, you know you don’t have to do this.’ She said, ‘I know I don’t. But I think I can and I know I have to try.'”
“And then she gets to Rafah,” Mr. Corrie continues, “and she starts writing about the bullet holes coming through the windows of houses people are still living in and I get terribly frightened at that point because I realize this is a military out of control.”
Mr. Corrie recalls that the fear he felt for his daughter’s safety was so overwhelming he found himself unable to write to Rachel until a week before her death.
“I could talk to her on the phone,” Mr. Corrie recalls. “I don’t know how Cindy did it, writing without knowing if the person you’re writing to is still alive…”
“I wrote once, the week before she was killed,” he says, “I talked to her about how proud of her I am. Thank god I did.”