NABLUS: Clutching their rifles, bored Israeli soldiers gaze dispassionately at the short line of cars queued at the Huwara army roadblock south of Nablus.

The northern West Bank city has been sealed off and been under curfew since Israel reoccupied it along with six other Palestinian autonomous cities following deadly suicide bombings in Jerusalem on June 18-19.

After half an hour of waiting and arguing, a major finally tells his subordinates: “All foreign journalists can go in, but Israelis have no permission.”

Large red letters reading: “Death to Sharon”, scrawled on the bullet-riddled wall of the governorate building, greet visitors entering the city via the dusty main road. A lone tank points its cannon threateningly at the roadblock.

Once past it, there are no soldiers or tanks to be seen anywhere.

Having established permanent bases in four residential buildings at strategic points across the city, the army keeps a low profile. Soldiers enter Nablus’ Casbah (Old City) or the adjacent Balate and Askar refugee camps occasionally to arrest suspected militants or to search for arms and explosives.

During the 62 days of curfew, the estimated 154,000 residents in the city and camps were allowed out of their homes only seven times, for a total of 39 hours, says Suheir Frerteikh of the Nablus governorate.

But defiant residents have been breaking the curfew en masse for more than three weeks.

“We encourage all people to break the curfew. This is a new kind of struggle, a non-violent struggle,” says Anan Qadri, 41, the city’s health coordinator.

All national and educational institutions are doing their jobs despite the curfew, she says, but other aspects of life are greatly affected. People with chronic diseases such as diabetes and epilepsy cannot get their daily medicine. Children cannot get vaccines.

The Casbah especially is surprisingly crowded despite the curfew. Market stands are piled high with fresh fruit and vegetables, pita breads, eggs, dates and sweets.

“The Israeli authorities allow food supplies from outside every five days,” explains Nidal Wassel, who owns a vegetable stand. But shop-owner Omar al-Ahmad adds that not many people have enough money to buy.

When the soldiers come they try to enforce the curfew, calling on residents over loudspeakers to return to their houses.

“They shoot in the air. Sometimes they shoot at the people above their heads,” says Suheir.

During invasion last April, Israel took control over Nablus for nearly three weeks, sparking bloody gunbattles with Palestinian fighters confronting the army. According to the Palestinian Red Crescent, 170 Palestinians have been killed in Nablus since then, 69 of them during the April invasion.

Nablus governor Mahmoud al-Aloul calls Israeli accusations of bomb-making laboratories in his city “lies and nothing, but lies”.

“There are no terrorists among the Palestinians,” al-Aloul says, smiling cynically. “The Palestinian people are protecting themselves. I believe the Sharon office is the place where terrorism is found.”

Nonetheless, sun-bleached pictures of dead Palestinian fighters and suicide bombers are plastered on nearly every building in the city.

People feel safer breaking the curfew in Casbah and the refugee camps than in the rest of the city. They have only a few entrances and tanks cannot drive through the narrow streets, explains Qadri. They warn each other by cell phone when they spot soldiers approaching.

“It’s a kind of cat and mouse game,” she says.—dpa