The 26th of September 1996 shattered the illusion of peace, the dream of '95 collapsed in one moment. The opening of the tunnel under the western wall, which was understood by the Palestinian people as a blow at the Islamic holy of holies in the holy land, gave birth to a wave of confrontations between the Palestinians in the occupied areas and the I.D.F. forces.
On the second day of fighting I drove to Ramallah to cover the riots, a short time after driving round the southern checkpoint (so that the Israeli soldiers would not prevent me from entering) I heard sounds of shooting from the direction of the checkpoint, came closer and was witness to a scene which until it happened would have seemed imaginary, Palestinian policemen were using live ammunition for the first time against the Israeli army.
The importance of the moment, the significance of these actions and their daring made a strong impression on me which immobilised me for a few minutes. From then on everything was confused, my decision to stand in the first line opposite the I.D.F. soldiers shooting at me (at the crowd surrounding me), my presence among the Palestinians who might at any moment perceive me as an enemy because I'm an Israeli, the combat helicopters shooting bursts of hellfire a few metres from my feet, the people running every which way and every so often falling dead, the injury of my fellow-photographer Menushar, the crowd with bullets whizzing above their heads, the confusion of the Palestinian policemen running in all directions, not believing what was happening, performing actions and watching themselves unbelievingly at the same time.
Every policeman wanted to win the war all by himself, out of touch with any context or group discipline, sometimes it seemed that the achievement was the fighting itself and not its result, and so they floated among the clouds of dust to that day's glory, local heroes.

Miki Kratsman, 09 Jul 2002