In a West Bank Culture of Conflict, Boys Wield the Weapon at Hand BEIT OMMAR, West Bank - Muhammad Abu Hashem, 17, was sleeping in a sleeveless undershirt when the Israeli soldiers stormed into his home here at 4 a.m. on the second Monday in July. As they led him away moments later, Muhammad's mother rushed after with a long-sleeved shirt: they both knew it would be cold in the interrogation room. It was Muhammad's fourth arrest in three years for throwing stones at Israeli soldiers and settlers. His five brothers - three older and two younger - have all faced similar charges. Last year, three Abu Hashem boys, and their father, were in prison at the same time. "Children have hobbies, and my hobby is throwing stones," Muhammad explained weeks before his most recent arrest. A day with a confrontation is better than a free day. As Israeli and Palestinian negotiators resumed peace talks last week in Washington, the stone throwers of Beit Ommar are a reminder of the abiding tensions that animate relations between the two peoples that would populate the imagined two states living side by side. Youths hurling stones has long been the indelible icon - some call it a caricature - of Palestinian pushback against Israel: a recent United Nations report said 7,000 minors, some as young as 9, had been detained between 2002 and 2012. Here in Beit Ommar, a village of 17,000 between Bethlehem and Hebron that is surrounded by Jewish settlements, rock throwing is a rite of passage and an honored act of defiance. The futility of stones bouncing off armored vehicles matters little: confrontation is what counts. When they are not actually throwing stones, the children here play Arabs and Army, re-enacting the clashes and arrests. And when 17-year-old Bilal Ayad Awad was released in June after 16 months in prison, he was welcomed like a war hero with flags and fireworks, women in wedding finery lining the streets to cheer his motorcade. The New York Times The arrest of Ahmad Abu Hashem and his son Muhammad on July 8 was almost routine for a family in which few months have passed recently without at least one member behind bars. Mr. Abu Hashem, an activist in Beit Ommar, and all six of his sons have served time for throwing stones at Israeli soldiers and settlers. Source: Abu Hashem family and Israel Defense Forces The Israeli Army commander in the area counts 5 to 15 stone-throwing incidents per week, and the July 8 arrest of Muhammad and his father, Ahmad, brought to 45 the number of Beit Ommar residents taken into custody since the beginning of 2013, 35 of them ages 13 to 19. A teacher at the local high school said 20 boys missed class while in prison last year. A few, including Muhammad, were out more than 60 days, forcing them to repeat a grade. "Here, it is as if the intifada never stopped," said Musa Abu Hashhash, a field worker for the Israeli human rights group B'tselem. Beit Ommar, a farm town with roots in the Roman era, is a hot spot because of its perch off Road 60, the main thoroughfare from Jerusalem south to the settlements of Gush Etzion, which the Palestinians say have taken up to one-third of the village's original 13 square miles. The military, which since May has been joined by a company of border police to crack down, focuses on 11 prime stone-throwing points along the village's mile-long stretch of the road. There are "the duo," two houses teenagers hide between; "the stage," a raised area; "the triangle," an open field; and "the Molotov bend." And then there is the 200-year-old cemetery that slopes up from the road just north of the village entrance. Source: B'Tselem, Applied Research Institute-Jerusalem On Thursday, after the burial of a 63-year-old retired teacher, a teenager hurled a rock at a passing car with yellow Israeli plates: whack. Another teenager, two more stones: another direct hit. The settlers stopped their car, got out, and began shouting at the small crowd. Soon, there were soldiers, rifles raised and tear gas at the ready, who eventually hauled a Palestinian taxi driver into a waiting army jeep. Menuha Shvat, who has lived in a settlement near here since 1984, long ago lost count of the stones that have hit her car's reinforced windows. "It's crazy: I'm going to get pizza, and I'm driving through a war zone," said Ms. Shvat, who knew a man and his 1-year-old son who died when their car flipped in 2011 after being pelted with stones on Road 60. It's a game that can kill. Rina Castelnuovo, Nayef Hashlamoun and Khaled Abu Aker contributed reporting.