Fran O'Sullivan: How Israeli security tries to win friends and influence people

COMMENT

Do I fit the profile of a female terrorist?

The thought momentarily crossed my mind when I was singled out for an intensive search by Israeli security at Ben Gurion International Airport.

Travelling alone, female, running late for the plane. Fits the picture.

The New Zealand-Israel trade delegation had stumped up a US$150 fee to get me "VIP pre-clearance". This wasn't on the script.

Just that morning VIP officials told me not to bother arriving at the airport until 90 minutes before the 8.15am flight.

They met me at a special gate well away from the Israeli Defence Force soldiers with their automatic weapons.

But they stood silently to one side while young, tough-as-nails security women challenged me over why I had not turned up three hours before departure. Had it escaped them that I was the only person in the VIP queue - and not by chance?

All my belongings were pulled from their bags. Why have I got Bill Clinton's book? they asked.

"I've just interviewed him in London." And he's cool about the security wall, I murmur, sotto voce. Clinton gets the x-ray.

Who packed your suitcase? Where have you been in Israel? Who can vouch for you? "Here's Michael Ronen's card (Israel Foreign Affairs), call him - he knows who I am. His ministry's been showing me around."

They don't do that and by now the game is clear.

Yes, I am a single woman. No, I haven't been seduced by a Palestinian into carrying a bomb on board, I murmur (under my breath, this time). The laptop, phone cables and spare batteries for my digital tape recorder are simply tools of the trade. Was I going to head for the toilet, make a bomb, blow my BA flight out of the sky?

The male boss from Shin Bet disappears with the laptop. He's gone 30 minutes. Five security people are now questioning me.

On it goes. Yes, I am a journalist with the New Zealand Herald (you know that).

Where have you been in Israel? Dead Sea, Lebanon border, Golan Heights, Jerusalem, Tel Aviv. Yes, I've strayed on to the West Bank several times. And yes, I've been covering the passports story.

I had gone to Israel for an "educational" visit and stayed on to file more reports when the passports affair took a surprising twist.

Who else was with the mission? Mike Nathan (chief executive of the NZ Israel Trade Association) and Nevil Gibson (National Business Review editor).

Where were they? Mike was in Poland - his relatives had perished in the concentration camps. Nevil went back earlier (no problems there - he had been introduced everywhere as the association's patron).

Why had I brought my flight forward again? Because my son is seriously ill in Auckland Hospital. I must get to London for my connecting flight.

Why are you calling on your cellphone? I'm trying to ring my brother. He'll verify this. They are not interested.

No - I would not accept their "offer" to let me depart on time and send the laptop on a later flight. There has been plenty of time for the download. It is returned.

I open computer files as requested.

They take the laptop's connecting wires and batteries, stuff them into my suitcases and push them on to the conveyor belts.

All the papers in my laptop shoulder-bag and leather writing case are taken out and put in paper bags. The laptop bag and writing case are x-rayed separately.

A big cardboard box stamped "security" materialises. Into it go the laptop bag and writing case.

Look, I need that. No - we're sending this separately to Auckland, they say, refusing any explanation. They then seal the box with blue tape marked "security" and put in on the conveyor belt.

The laptop and two paper bags are thrust into my hands. Security escorts me to the plane.

Five hours later I get to Heathrow Airport. The paper bags are coming apart.

I get to Auckland Airport: Anything to declare? A rosary bead.

Hang on, says Customs, what's in this box labelled "security?" It's my laptop case - just take it.