http://972mag.com/following-orders-how-the-idf-eliminates-quiet-in-the-west-bank/121584/

It only makes sense, then, that the Israeli military be deployed to fully contain and eliminate the threat of quiet. Camse in point: according to an article by Haaretz’s Nir Hasson last month, the Israeli Border Police were mandated in an internal memo to cause “friction” with the Palestinian population in East Jerusalem. In other words, if it gets too “quiet,” it’s their job to make a little noise. This process of initiating said “friction” landed a 12-year-old boy in hospital; he has reportedly suffered permanent brain damage.

Furthermore social media reports seem to indicate that the policy of initiating friction isn’t limited to the Border Police, nor is it limited to East Jerusalem. A video posted to Facebook last week shows four young Palestinian men sitting and chatting when an Israeli army jeep pulls up. The young men look at the jeep, the occupants of which, after a slight pause, open the rear door and lob a stun grenade at them. Has it been too quiet in Ramallah lately? And before you respond with, “they must have done something wrong, otherwise why would the army do that?” the army announced that the soldiers involved were disciplined for the unwarranted action.

This past week another story emerged, this time out of Sinjil in the West Bank, where the Israeli army had taken over a house as a temporary outpost. A few weeks in the house and it looks more like the set of The Walking Dead than someone’s home. The army issued an apology, and again reportedly tried the officer in charge. One cannot help but wonder, however, if this was another “friction” initiative by the Israeli military.

http://972mag.com/how-an-idf-general-whitewashed-the-killing-of-three-innocent-palestinians/121504/

On March 10, 1998, at about 6 p.m., a white van carrying 12 Palestinian laborers heading home from work approached the Tarqumiyah crossing, between Israel and the southern West Bank. As the van entered the checkpoint, it veered slightly to the right, hitting one of the soldiers lightly. The soldier would later say that it wasn’t an accident, and that he saw “rage coming out of the driver’s eyes.” The soldiers, apparently aware of an alert issued the previous day of an imminent car-ramming attack, thought they saw one unfolding and opened fire. Three passengers were killed and another two were injured.

The head of the IDF’s West Bank division at the time, Brig. Gen. Yitzhak Eitan, initially claimed that “a preliminary investigation yielded that an attempt was made to run over a soldier, and the checkpoint staff responded accordingly.” However, eyewitnesses told Haaretz reporters Amos Harel and Sami Sokol that the van changed lanes because it had an Israeli license plate, and the driver noticed he was entering the Palestinian-only lane. The very same night, then-Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu phoned Yasser Arafat and extended his condolences. He later dubbed the incident “an unfortunate mistake.”

A week later, one of the surviving passengers told Haaretz that “the soldiers opened fire after another was waving towards us to move forward. One soldier didn’t see him and, thinking we were about to break through, started firing.” A report by Israeli human rights group B’Tselem the following year quoted an IDF investigation saying that the cause of the incident was faulty brakes.

Over the last few weeks, this case has been vaunted repeatedly by Dayan as an example of how errant shooters should be treated by army commanders. As GOC, Dayan was responsible for the lives of millions of occupied Palestinians, yet repeatedly and unflinchingly showcased the intricate cover-up apparatus of the most moral army in the world. Perhaps unwittingly, he drew the attention to the true culprits: the Dayans and the Ashkenazis, the Sharons and Baraks, and all the other generals (not to mention generations of cabinet ministers).