On December 27, 2009, a show on the Lebanese Al-Quds TV channel featured a storyteller recounting tales of martyrdom to a studio audience of children, some of whom are seen holding guns (it is unclear if they are toys or are real). The hero of the story is Isma'il, a young boy who is killed by a "Jewish sniper" in a battle with "Zionist gangs that invaded [Palestinian] cities and villages, killing the young and the elderly." Isma'il held his "beautiful new gun" firmly and said: "Let's show those lowlifes what heroes we are." Martyrdom is depicted as a thing of beauty; when Isma'il died, "the smile on his face was more beautiful than the moon. His eyes were full of tears, and his face was beautiful - more beautiful than in any game they played as children."
Storyteller Abu Saleh told the enrapt children: "There is not a single Palestinian village or city whose people do not know how to use a gun. Why? Because they have suckled this with their mother's milk." When playing cops and robbers, he said, Isma'il loved to play the cop, because "he knew he would be one of the defenders of his land."
After the story, some of the children in the studio expressed their identification with Isma'il. One said: "I am just like Isma'il. I am not a coward. I am strong. I want to die with a gun in my hand," and another exclaimed: "I like Isma'il a lot. I want to be just like him."
To view this clip on MEMRI TV, visit http://www.memritv.org/clip/en/2390.htm.
For more clips on indoctrination of children on TV, visit http://www.memritv.org/subject/en/178.htm.
For further viewing of clips on martyrdom, visit http://www.memritv.org/subject/en/215.htm.
Isma'il Was a Real Hero Because He Killed More Than 10 Zionists
Storyteller: "Once upon a time, when the bullets were flying all over the village, and the Zionist gangs were destroying everything, invading cities and villages, killing the young and the elderly, Muhammad and the guys were hiding. There was a heavy exchange of fire. Between whom? Between people wearing masks – nobody knew who they were - and the accursed Zionists. One side was shooting at the other, and the whole village was ablaze.
"Everybody was afraid, and people were yelling: 'Stop! The house of the mukhtar is on fire!' Everybody started screaming and crying, and the men didn't know what to do.
"After a few moments, a group of masked men came down from the roof of the house of the mukhtar. Two of them opened the back door, which led to the garden, and they took the women, the children, and the elderly out. Two other masked men continued shooting at the Jews through the window.
"Everyone started running under the cover of those masked men, until they reached Sheik Nuh in the mosque. What did they see there? They saw Sheik Nuh giving guns to the masked men, saying to them: 'Allah be with you, men! Defend your country and your honor! Don't let any Jew be happy! Attack them, men!'
"Muhammad saw his friend Isma'il among the men. Isma'il was as happy as if it was his wedding night. He held the gun firmly – a beautiful new gun. Muhammad approached him and said: 'I see that you are happy, Isma'il.' 'Of course I am. Let's show those lowlifes what heroes we are. Let's go, Muhammad!'"
Child: "Did Muhammad know how to use a gun?"
Storyteller: "My dear children, there is not a single Palestinian village or city whose people do not know how to use a gun. Why? Because they have suckled this with their mother's milk. Do you know why else?"
Child: "Why?"
Storyteller: "I'll tell you why. When your land is occupied, when the honor of your women is in danger, when your home can be stolen from you any day - you must know how to protect your honor, your land, and your home. Of course, all these men knew how to use guns, but Isma'il was different. He was a real hero. Why? Because that day, he killed more than ten occupying bandits from among the Zionists.
"He proved that he was a very strong cop. That's why, when he was a child and used to play with other children, he had something special about him. He refused to play the role of the robber. He insisted on playing the cop. He loved playing the cop because he knew himself, and he knew he would be one of the defenders of his land.
"The young men continued shooting at the Jewish gangs until they drove them out of the village. The Jewish gangs started dispersing in all directions, like roaches or rabbits. But one of them stayed behind, sitting on a little hill. Who was he? He was a sniper. He fired a shot from a distance, and the bullet hit Isma'il.
[...]
"Isma'il was martyred before Muhammad's eyes. The smile on his face was more beautiful than the moon. His eyes were full of tears, and his face was beautiful - more beautiful than in any game they played as children. Why? Because Isma'il was not a coward. By no means. He was strong.
"Even when he was martyred, he was strong. His gun was in his hands – the gun that he loved so much. He clasped it so tightly that his friends could not remove it from his grasp. The gun remained in his hand, and they had to bury Isma'il with it."
Child: "I Want to Die with a Gun in My Hand"
Child: "I am just like Isma'il. I am not a coward. I am strong. I want to die with a gun in my hand."
Storyteller: "May Allah bless you, my son, Firas. No one brought up in Palestine is a coward. Palestine has taught us the meaning of power – of power, of mercy, of feelings, and of sacrifice. Palestine taught us to be men, even when we were children."
Child: "Did this story really happen, Abu Saleh?"
Storyteller: "Of course my son, 'Alaa. It happened to everybody – to me, your father, your grandfather. To the fathers and grandfathers of all of you."
[...]
Child: "Abu Saleh, I like Isma'il a lot. I want to be just like him."
Storyteller: "You are not the only one, my son, Musa. All the Palestinian youth want to be like Isma'il, but you must understand that some must remain in order to carry the banner. Some are martyred, and others continue [the struggle].
"Therefore, we will keep our heads high, and keep the name Palestine engraved in our minds and our hearts: P-A-L-E-S-T-I-N-E."
Children (chanting in unison): "Palestine! Palestine! Palestine!"
