No Justice, No Peace ... Whatever

The son of Palestinian parents who moved to California before he was born, Ayesh understands the apathy of young people. He confronts the same doubts. "There are plenty of days when it's hard to be motivated," he says. "But I just know I have to help any way I can. You never know when things are going to change, so you keep working."

As the protesters return to the Downtown Berkeley BART station where their march started, a handful of counter-protesters await them. They hold large Israeli flags and a banner that reads "Barak Offered Land and Peace — Arafat Offered Suicide Bombers." A man and woman, each in their 40s and wielding a bullhorn, yell in unison, "Stop the jihad, start the peace!"

Even with their voices amplified, however, they lose the slogan duel to Ayesh's young lungs. He bellows "Free, free Palestine!" and as the crowd echoes him again and again, the man and woman set down their bullhorns. A moment later, with the group still chanting, a young man riding his bike on the sidewalk pulls over to watch the spectacle. He sports a headband and goatee, and looks about 21. A pair of women his age, walking the opposite direction after exiting the BART station, stop beside him.

"What's this for?" one asks him.

"I dunno," he says with a shrug. "Something about Israel." Then he hops back on his bike and pedals away, and the two women amble off.