Today is Day 14,520 of the Maintenance of the Immoral (and Illegal) West Bank Settlements and more than 40 years since the start of the immoral (and illegal) occupation of the West Bank and Gaza.
Micah.6:8 “He has told you, O man, Only to do justice and to love goodness, and to walk humbly with your God
Within the borders of Hebron, one of the biggest Arab cities in the West Bank, are 120,000 Palestinians. In the old city of Hebron, there are 800 Jewish Israeli squatters and 30,000 Palestinians while around Kiryat Arba the squatterment founded by Rabbi Levinger near Hebron, there are an additional 9,200 squatters.
On another discussion board, one of the posters was trying to justify the activities of the Jewish settlers of Hebron and made the following comment:
“War is ugly. Conflict is ugly. Either we have a right to the land or we don’t. I believe we do - which necessitates some ugly actions. I don’t condone unnecessary violence; but it isn’t ugly to fight back to protect your rights.”
My response was as follows:
What makes you believe that this is a war? It seems to me to be an occupation in which one body, the Government of Israel, has won a war in 1967 and reigns supreme over another body, the Palestinians, with overwhelming superior military force.
Just “who” is the “we” that has a right to the land? Is it anyone who is Jewish? Do I and my family have a right to the land? What laws do you cite as authority for who you believe owns the land?
“Ugly actions” – for sure!!! – Stealing land, beating and killing children, women and men, cutting down olive trees, preventing the harvesting of olives and cutting down olive trees, harassment to force the closing of commercial establishments, destroying property, pouring filth.
“..it isn’t ugly to fight back to protect your rights”. Assuming that the Jewish settlers own the land, what laws guide them on how to take the land back. In Massachusetts, we have a legal process that dictates the steps in court that a landlord must take in order to evict someone on his or her land. What laws are the settlers relying on when they do what they do? What they do is not only ugly but contrary to what we expect from those who live in civilized society.
Ugly, ugly, ugly……
Isaiah 1:17,27 “Learn to do well – seek justice, relieve the oppressed, judge the fatherless, plead for the widow .. Zion shall be redeemed with justice, and they that return of her with righteousness.”
Here is an article published over this past weekend about life as a Palestinian in Hebron.
The Sword is Mightier by Seth Freedman / The Guardian [UK] / Jan 12, 2008
"An unarmed civilian observer mission can’t offer balanced policing to Palestinians in Hebron, a city where the IDF runs the show.
It’s easy to claim that the pen is mightier than the sword from the safety of a university lecture hall, or a middle class soiree in a suburban dining room. However, in the bandit country that is Hebron, the adage rings somewhat hollow, as I found after spending a day out on patrol with Temporary International Presence in the City of Hebron TIPH. What I saw during my six-hour shadowing of the dedicated yet ultimately toothless members of the TIPH team made me question the wisdom of their presence in the troubled city.
Established in the wake of Baruch Goldstein’s shooting spree in a local mosque, TIPH’s raison d’etre is to “monitor the situation in Hebron and record breaches of international law.” In essence, they are stationed in the city to bear witness to the almost daily violent incidents that erupt between the Jewish settlers of Hebron and their Palestinian neighbours.
So it was on Wednesday, as I set out with Sibyll and Mortens, respectively Swiss and Danish TIPH workers, who are old hands at dealing with the explosive situation using the limited tools at their disposal. Our first incident was fairly mundane by comparison with what we’d see later - a youth protesting to the pair that every time Palestinian Authority workmen came to try and fix a sewage blockage in the souk, Israeli soldiers ordered them to leave the area without allowing them to carry out their repairs.
“This is the third time we’ve heard this story in four days,” said Sibyll, as she noted down the boy’s complaint in her notebook. “All we can do is to try and get our liaison officers to try to intervene with the army and the PA, and attempt to get permits for them to complete their work [unimpeded].” Mortens concurred with her plan of action: “It won’t happen overnight, though - we have to write a report, contact the DCO, and hope that they can achieve results.” And in the meantime, the stench of raw sewage hangs over the market and adds to the sense of discomfort that the shopkeepers are forced to endure.
There had been reports that it was the settlers who had blocked up the sewage system, causing the problem, although that was hard for the team to verify. However, the next incident they were called to appeared far more clear cut. In a busy street underneath a barred window of one of the settlement buildings, a couple of tin cans with unidentifiable viscous liquid oozing from them lay on the edge of the pavement. “They tried to light it before hurling it at us,” declared a middle-aged Palestinian man breathlessly, pointing up in the direction of the offenders’ homes.
“They were 16 or 17,” he continued, “not small kids at all.” Hanging from the bars of the windows were sandbags filled with stones, which Sibyll said, “are prepared by the children, who then throw the rocks down at the Palestinians. The IDF come, but always deny that anything has happened.” All that TIPH can do in such circumstances is pull out their notebooks, log a record of the incident, and then file the report with the DCO, which does little to placate the injured parties or to reassure them that anything tangible is being done to protect them.
“There’s a feeling of real frustration amongst us,” said Ghassan, a Swedish member of TIPH. “We can’t intervene in a situation; all we can do is turn up and take photos.” He explained that this causes inevitable resentment on the part of the Palestinians, while others on the Palestinian side “don’t like us because they’re convinced we work for the Israelis.”
As we continued along the route of the patrol, we came across a gaggle of teenagers surrounding a dishevelled-looking man sitting askew in a wheelchair. His T-shirt badly ripped from shoulder to shoulder and covered in bloodstains, he shook as he turned plaintively to Mortens and Sibyll and pleaded for their help. “The army did this,” he began. “They beat me, and there are 15 of them still in my house now - you’ve got to go and do something.”
After taking photos of his injuries to use as evidence, we hurried off in the direction of his house in the company of one of the boys who was acting as guide. However, our way was obstructed by a shaven-headed Russian IDF soldier who ordered us to take a far longer, circuitous route, since the Palestinian boy was banned from walking past the Cave of Machpela. When we eventually got to the raided house, the operation was still in full flow, with heavily-armed soldiers milling around on every floor of the building as the children of the house nervously looked on.
Thanks to the terms of their mandate, TIPH members are unimpeded in their monitoring work, thus the soldiers had to let them photograph the ongoing search and interview the commander once he’d declared the building safe. “There were rocks being thrown from the roof,” he stated flatly when questioned. “I didn’t see anyone in a wheelchair,” he went on, looking to his charges for confirmation, “and if there had been, I promise you he’d still be here with us.”
“It’s a bit fishy that he managed to get out of the house and all the way down the road in a wheelchair in the middle of a raid.” He proposed that the man’s injuries might instead be a result of him jumping off the roof and trying to escape arrest, implying that the wheelchair was merely a prop used to garner sympathy from the TIPH team. Once the soldiers had left, we entered the house and interviewed the wounded man’s children, who assured us that he had been beaten by the troops.
However, they also admitted that their younger brother had been throwing rocks at the army, and refused to stop when his older siblings and father remonstrated with him. At the same time, they couldn’t give a convincing explanation for how their apparently wheelchair-bound father had made it up the impossibly narrow stairs onto the roof to chastise their brother. This prompted Sibyll to complain that the hardest part of her job was trying to decide who was being honest and who just wanted to apportion all the blame to the other side.
The commander’s parting words to us had been “We were just doing our job - no one should have rocks thrown at them, should they?” While entirely right, his concern seemed pretty ironic given the complete ambivalence the army showed earlier when Mortens and Sibyll tried to report the missile attacks on the Palestinians. That the IDF runs the whole show in the city, and TIPH can do little more than meekly complain from the sidelines is the heart of the problem when it comes to policing the area fairly.
Of course, Israel is hardly likely to agree to arm the likes of TIPH, just as they have all but repealed the authority’s mandate to be in charge of keeping order in the Palestinian half of the city. However, given that a large part of TIPH’s purpose is to try and afford the same level of protection and security to the Palestinians that the settlers enjoy, it is clear that there is no balance whatsoever at present.
Well-meaning but ultimately impotent foreigners wielding notebooks and pens are no match for M16-toting soldiers when it comes to delivering justice to the city’s residents. Therefore it is no surprise that, despite what TIPH was set up to deliver, the Palestinians feel no better looked after now than they did before 1994. And that is no more likely to assuage their frustration and fears than any other half-hearted internationally-led initiative - meaning that their ongoing feeling of abandonment is entirely understandable while the best they’ve got is TIPH.
Deuteronomy 16:20 – “Justice, justice shall you pursue that you may live and inherit the land which God gave you” and the footnote in the 1980 Hertz Edition “(T)here is international justice, which demands respect for the personality of every national group, and proclaims that no people can of right be robbed of its national life or territory, its language or spiritual heritage.
Monday, January 14, 2008
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
An Abomination - the 800 Jewish Settlers of Hebron
Today is Day 14,515 of the Maintenance of the immoral (and illegal) West Bank Settlements and more than 40 years since the start of the immoral (and illegal) occupation of the West Bank and Gaza.
A few weeks ago I received the latest report from B’Tselem entitled “Ghost Town: Israel’s Separation Policy and Forced Eviction of Palestinians from the Center of Hebron”, May 2007.
This report sits on top of the file of to-be-read material but I just cannot overcome the nausea that overwhelms me as I contemplate reading 107 pages about the abomination that is the 800 Jewish residents of Hebron. I did read the first sentence of the Conclusions:
Hebron Area H2
This morning I received this message:
SOURCE http://jewschool.com/
Hebron, Area H2 (guest post)
by BZ - http://www.jewschool.com/ - Tuesday, January 8th, 2008
This post is by guest contributor Shira Levine.
Sadly, George W. Bush, the President of the United States, who is visiting Israel and the Occupied Territories, is not likely to visit Hebron Area H2 and be made aware of the story of the 800 Jewish settlers living there.
Leviticus, Chapter 19
On New Year’s Eve, for perhaps the twentieth year, my wife and I and another couple, our good friends, enjoyed First Night in Boston. One of the four performances we attended was at the Universalist-Unitarian Church. The sounds of the talented guitar player from Mexico reminded me of music of Andre Segovia played by my roommate Bill in college now over 50 years ago. I took out the prayer book in the pew in front of me and read an excerpt from “The Heart of the Torah” Leviticus Chapter 19. Today, I took a look at the entire Chapter. Here is what struck me.
The 800 Jewish settlers in Hebron
The American Jewish Committee just released its 2007 survey of American Jewry. I wonder what percentage of American Jews know the story of the 800 Jewish Settlers in Hebron. I wonder what percentage of American Jews are familiar with the above passages from Leviticus 19. I wonder what percentage of American Jews who are familiar with the story and the above passages would condemn the actions of the settlers and the Government of Israel for supporting the settlers.
I wonder what percentage of American Rabbis know the story of the 800 Jewish Settlers in Hebron. I am quite certain that American Rabbis are familiar with these passages. I wonder what percentage of American Rabbis who know the story and are familiar with the passages would condemn the actions of the settlers and the Government of Israel for supporting the settlers.
The Jewish settlers in Hebron are one of the primary reasons I regret that the Great Sanhedrin (the supreme court of the Jewish people) was dissolved about 1700 years ago. One of my fondest dreams is for a Great Sanhedrin to be reinstituted so that the Jewish settlers could be indicted for its violation of Leviticus 19. What might be appropriate would be to frame the accusation as attempted murder of Judaism – the thrusting of a knife into the heart of the Torah.
Elsewhere in the Torah is another piece of the Heart of the Torah- Deuteronomy XVI, 18:20 – “Justice, Justice shalt thou follow, that thou mayest live, and inherit the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee.” Another question to ask is "Where is God?" We would not need to reestablish the Great Sanhedrin if God was observing the Hebron settlers. She would likely disinherit all the 800 and evict them.
Micah.6:8 “He has told you,..., Only to do justice and to love goodness, and to walk humbly with your God
A few weeks ago I received the latest report from B’Tselem entitled “Ghost Town: Israel’s Separation Policy and Forced Eviction of Palestinians from the Center of Hebron”, May 2007.
This report sits on top of the file of to-be-read material but I just cannot overcome the nausea that overwhelms me as I contemplate reading 107 pages about the abomination that is the 800 Jewish residents of Hebron. I did read the first sentence of the Conclusions:
"The constant and grave harm to Palestinians living in the center of Hebron is one of the most extreme manifestations of human rights violations committed by the State of Israel."
Hebron Area H2
This morning I received this message:
SOURCE http://jewschool.com/
Hebron, Area H2 (guest post)
by BZ - http://www.jewschool.com/ - Tuesday, January 8th, 2008
This post is by guest contributor Shira Levine.
Below is a reflection I wrote after traveling last Friday to area H2 of Hebron, the twenty percent of the city that is under direct Israeli control. I toured with Breaking the Silence, an organization of Israelis who served as soldiers in Hebron and are aiming to educate the public on the reality of the situation.
The most frightening part of the area of Hebron that is under Israeli control is the totality of the tragedy – the complete emptiness which serves as evidence that you can erase a presence with enough guns and padlocks. But there are still Palestinians there.On the few streets that Palestinians are allowed to walk on, they walk with trepidation – brief encounters with a soldier who asks you on the street to open your jacket and show that you’re not wearing a bomb belt must happen countless time a day for the few residents who stayed in this part of the city. The soldier gestures and it’s clear to the pedestrian what he wants. And in the space between the houses that have not been abandoned, or where residents have not been driven out, you see a young women step out to empty trash. She’s wearing a bed sheet as a headscarf. It’s surprising to see her here. It’s surprising that anyone is left.
Palestinians in Hebron seem to live with a low profile, clinging to their houses. Many of the houses are empty. And all are surrounded by trash. Much of it is the trash thrown by Jewish settlers onto the houses of Palestinians, with the clear intention of driving out their neighbors.
Every Palestinian window is covered with chicken wire to prevent rocks being thrown in from the settlers. Since windows have still been bashed in, some Palestinians have enclosed their homes with metal shutters. How dark is it inside those houses?
The darkness. The day was sunny, but the barrenness cast a deep shadow. Row upon row upon row of locked up shop fronts. Like in abandoned American inner-cities. Only these shops weren’t left voluntarily – different streets have different levels of what our guide described as sterilization. After the Baruch Goldstein massacre in 1994 of Palestinian worshippers, there was a legitimate fear of Palestinian retaliation.As a result, Palestinians were closed in their homes and allowed out only every few days for provisions. Beginning with the meat market, areas of the city began to be emptied and shut. Shop owners there continued paying the rent that, under the complex property laws in Hebron, maintained their right to the land. They were paying rent for stores that were locked up on roads that they still aren’t allowed to walk on. A few settlers have started building in the empty storefronts.
There are no cars, no stores, and even walking is forbidden on the sterilized roads in what used to be a bustling Palestinian city. The former soldiers who give the tours tell horrible confessional stories of the violence and harm that the army did in its efforts to make Hebron a place where 800 Jewish settlers can live.
800 people who don’t want to live with their neighbors. People who send their children to attack Palestinian students returning from school. Videos, filmed by residents with hand held camcorders from the Israeli human rights group Betselem, show pure hatred in fifteen year old settler girls who push down adult Palestinian women teachers.The settlers’ goal is clear. The Palestinians should leave.
The encroaching emptiness has succeeded. Is it possible to stand in the ruins and imagine a restored market place? Is it possible to imagine that children could bring back milk without walking through empty streets and army check points?When you’re there, it feels like the end. 15 years ago, if we’d stood in the market and you’d told me that the army and the settlers together would clear out this section of the city of its Palestinian residents, I couldn’t have believed you. I couldn’t have imagined how strikingly different the place would become.
It’s hard to imagine that it still can.
Sadly, George W. Bush, the President of the United States, who is visiting Israel and the Occupied Territories, is not likely to visit Hebron Area H2 and be made aware of the story of the 800 Jewish settlers living there.
Leviticus, Chapter 19
On New Year’s Eve, for perhaps the twentieth year, my wife and I and another couple, our good friends, enjoyed First Night in Boston. One of the four performances we attended was at the Universalist-Unitarian Church. The sounds of the talented guitar player from Mexico reminded me of music of Andre Segovia played by my roommate Bill in college now over 50 years ago. I took out the prayer book in the pew in front of me and read an excerpt from “The Heart of the Torah” Leviticus Chapter 19. Today, I took a look at the entire Chapter. Here is what struck me.
"1. And the Lord spoke to Moses, saying,
2. Speak to the entire congregation of the children of Israel, and say to them, You shall be holy, for I, the Lord, your God, am holy.
9. When you reap the harvest of your land, you shall not fully reap the corner of your field, nor shall you gather the gleanings of your harvest.
10. And you shall not glean your vineyard, nor shall you collect the [fallen] individual grapes of your vineyard; you shall leave them for the poor and the stranger. I am the Lord, your God.
11. You shall not steal. You shall not deny falsely. You shall not lie, one man to his
fellow.
13. You shall not oppress your fellow. You shall not rob. The hired worker's wage shall not remain with you overnight until morning.
14. You shall not curse a deaf person. You shall not place a stumbling block before a
blind person, and you shall fear your God. I am the Lord.
15. You shall commit no injustice in judgment; you shall not favor a poor person or respect a great man; you shall judge your fellow with righteousness.
16. You shall not go around as a gossipmonger amidst your people. You shall not stand by [the shedding of] your fellow's blood. I am the Lord.
17. You shall not hate your brother in your heart. You shall surely rebuke your fellow, but you shall not bear a sin on his account.
18. You shall neither take revenge from nor bear a grudge against the members of your people; you shall love your neighbor as yourself. I am the Lord.
23. When you come to the Land and you plant any food tree, you shall surely block its fruit [from use]; it shall be blocked from you [from use] for three years, not to be
eaten.
24. And in the fourth year, all its fruit shall be holy, a praise to the Lord.
25. And in the fifth year, you may eat its fruit; [do this, in order] to increase its produce for you. I am the Lord, your God.
32. You shall rise before a venerable person and you shall respect the elderly, and you shall fear your God. I am the Lord.
33. When a stranger sojourns with you in your land, you shall not taunt him.
34. The stranger who sojourns with you shall be as a native from among you, and you shall love him as yourself; for you were strangers in the land of Egypt. I am the Lord, your God.
35. You shall not commit a perversion of justice with measures, weights, or liquid
measures.
36. You shall have true scales, true weights, a true ephah, and a true hin. I am the Lord, your God, Who brought you out of the land of Egypt.
37. You shall observe all My statutes and all My ordinances, and fulfill them. I am the Lord."
The 800 Jewish settlers in Hebron
The American Jewish Committee just released its 2007 survey of American Jewry. I wonder what percentage of American Jews know the story of the 800 Jewish Settlers in Hebron. I wonder what percentage of American Jews are familiar with the above passages from Leviticus 19. I wonder what percentage of American Jews who are familiar with the story and the above passages would condemn the actions of the settlers and the Government of Israel for supporting the settlers.
I wonder what percentage of American Rabbis know the story of the 800 Jewish Settlers in Hebron. I am quite certain that American Rabbis are familiar with these passages. I wonder what percentage of American Rabbis who know the story and are familiar with the passages would condemn the actions of the settlers and the Government of Israel for supporting the settlers.
The Jewish settlers in Hebron are one of the primary reasons I regret that the Great Sanhedrin (the supreme court of the Jewish people) was dissolved about 1700 years ago. One of my fondest dreams is for a Great Sanhedrin to be reinstituted so that the Jewish settlers could be indicted for its violation of Leviticus 19. What might be appropriate would be to frame the accusation as attempted murder of Judaism – the thrusting of a knife into the heart of the Torah.
Elsewhere in the Torah is another piece of the Heart of the Torah- Deuteronomy XVI, 18:20 – “Justice, Justice shalt thou follow, that thou mayest live, and inherit the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee.” Another question to ask is "Where is God?" We would not need to reestablish the Great Sanhedrin if God was observing the Hebron settlers. She would likely disinherit all the 800 and evict them.
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Marty Federman's 2007 Visit Journal - Entry # 9B
Marty Federman, the co-chair of the Boston Chapter of Jewish Voice for Peace, is traveling in Israel and the West Bank. On his trips, he always keeps a journal of what he sees as well as his observations. I have asked for his permission to post each entry on this blog and he gave his approval.
As I said Journal Entry #9 was longer than usual so I divided it into two installments. The previous one was #9A and this one is #9B
Journal Entry #9B
Friday, Dec. 14, 2007
Trip to Ramallah
Left Beit Sahour and came to Ramallah today – this time to stay for a few days.
Can’t write this without saying something about the landscape between Bethlehem and Ramallah again. It’s simply incredible – much of it is stark and the hills are daunting – and yet for millennia people have found their way here and built their homes – and lives – as if emerging organically from the hard earth. The olive trees here are a metaphor for the people who have relied on them for all these centuries: there is no explanation for why they survive, much less thrive, in this harsh environment, and yet they flourish with their bushy, pale green foliage shouting across the awesomely deep valleys, “we’re here and we’re not going anywhere!”
It occurred to me today part of why the settlements are not only politically and emotionally offensive but why, despite – or in part because of – their modern, architecturally (some think) pure excellence. Just like the very idea of the “neighborhoods,” they create, these buildings are imposed on the top of hills from which they have not emerged naturally like the villages they overlook and, in many cases, replaced. It makes me think – or perhaps only hope in some vengeful way – that, despite their conviction that this is “their” land, the settlers will never feel that they are part of it, because, of course, they’re not. Unlike the olive trees that declare their resolve, the red-roofed homes of the settlements shout out their invasiveness, declaring only how much they do not belong in these hills. Earlier I said that I could understand why so many people want this land. I realize now that the Palestinians (and perhaps some of the idealistic, hope-filled Jewish “pioneers” a century ago) love this place – the settlers, I think, only want it.
In Ramallah
Settled into the hotel (not great and overpriced, but it will keep me for a couple of days) and went out to explore. Walking through the city is very different than driving through in a Service Taxi. Ramallah is not quite as impressive as I thought last week now that I have seen Hebron, but it is quite the city none-the-less. There is a remarkable conglomeration of the traditional (i.e., old) and the modern. Many stores were closed since today is Friday, the traditional day off for Muslims, but there was plenty of bustle – I’m told it will be like this through Christmas (even many Muslim shopkeepers take advantage of the season) and the New Yorker in me is looking forward to what it will be like in the coming days.
Had an interesting lunch. Walking down one of the “spokes” (the five main streets that emanate from the central “Manata” literally, someone told me, “lighthouse” but generically a central circle/”round-about”) a voice called from above me. I looked up and, on a second floor terrace two young men in fast-food uniforms were asking whether I wanted to eat the “best food in Ramallah.” When I indicated that I would be curious to know where one would find the best food in Ramallah they motioned to a large sign for “Authentic Chicago Cheese Steaks” and told me that this is where I would find “real American food.” I explained that I had not traveled half way around the world to eat food I could get at home. Very good naturedly they acknowledged that they understood, but if I wanted some good American food I should come back.
After exploring a couple of the “spokes” and the smaller streets and alleys that run between them, something told me that I needed to, at very least, have a diet coke at “Chicago Cheese Steaks,” so I found my way back and climbed the stairs inside to a shiny, spotless fast-food restaurant that one might find in any American City. The young owner, Eshan (“everyone just calls me Sam”) sat and, after some questions about what a Chicago fast food joint was doing in the center of Ramallah, Sam’s story emerged. Born in a suburb of Ramallah, he grew up in Chicago, moved back and forth, ran a Cheese Steak place in Cicero and recently returned to Ramallah with his wife and, four days ago, opened this restaurant. Sam’s father, came in and sat with us. Bob was born in the same village as Sam. His father had lived in Chicago at the beginning of the 20th century, served in the U.S. Army during World War I, moved back to Ramallah where he was born and lived for many years before going to Chicago and joining the Marines with whom he served during the Korean War period.
But nothing in this place is as simple as that. As we talked, I asked Sam about what passport he had and how he continued to come back and forth between the States and Palestine. Although born here, by virtue of his father’s status, Sam is an American citizen and has both an American passport and Palestinian ID. The last time he came into Ben Gurion he showed only his American passport (as he had in the past), expecting to be able to go through and go home. This time, however, they checked the computer and found that he also possessed a Palestinian ID. They asked him why he had lied to them, told him that he could only come into Palestine by the Jordan/Allenby Bridge route, and sent him back to Chicago! I needn’t spend any time sharing my feelings about this.
Saturday, Dec. 15th – Ramallah
Spent the better part of Saturday with CB, a Mennonite from Canada who has been back and forth to Palestine, mostly with the Friends (Quakers) since 1982, has been in Ramallah for a the last few years on a series of six month visas and the Ministry of the Interior has refused her last request for an extension. It would be totally impossible for me to try and summarize in a few words the draconian process involved for people to renew visas, get work permits, etc. Apparently more and more people working for NGO’s, humanitarian and church groups have been denied visas or work permits or are being denied entry into Israel. As to renewing visas (including for people who have been here for years) I have noted to a number of people that what is going on relative to people who want to stay is eerily like nothing as much as what the Jewish refusenicks in the Soviet Union went through when they applied to get out! CB has been sent from office to office, told that she needs documents that no one ever looks at, called any number of officials and semi-officials and, in some cases, treated incredibly rudely. And, of course, with each new requirement or denial the bureaucrats have no obligation to explain their decisions or explain the basis on which their decisions are made. As I write this her visa extension was denied from the Israeli Ministry of the Interior and has submitted a new request through the Palestinian Ministry which is being forwarded to the Israelis. (Once again an example of the Palestinian Authority’s non-existent “authority:” the Palestinian Authority can validate her application to stay in Palestine but only the Israeli authorities have the authority to authorize the validation!) KB is due to find out if the Ministry of the Interior has granted the extension on Sunday.
After a wonderfully restful day finding out all about KB and sharing information about my trip – and my work in the U.S., KB took me for the most wonderfully civilized meal I’ve had in a few weeks - at Darna (“my house”) not far from my hotel. Good food is not in short supply in Ramallah – in fact, walking around the city I’ve thought that I probably haven’t seen as many places to eat crowded into a space outside of Manhattan. And, in a place like Ramallah, the options and quality run the full gamut. Because of budget and schedule considerations my diet has tended overwhelmingly towards the falafel, hummus, salad at street stands and “cafes” as well as pita and cheese at the guest house or from little groceries. (There is no shortage of my particular addiction: diet coke – although caffeine-free is a concept that is about as evident as “no-smoking” signs.) Saturday night, however, i had the opportunity to eat at a “fine” Palestinian restaurant with food and service standards equal to the U.S. but without an attempt to be inauthentically “western” (except for a few touches like the hamburger and fries listed on the children’s menu). Refreshingly, this somewhat more upscale eatery had many diners, including a group that was celebrating one of it’s member’s birthday including a large chocolate cake with a huge, celebratory sparkling candle.
It’s difficult to know what to do with conflicting feelings: on the one hand it is reassuring to see that there is an ongoing “normal” life evident here, that there are people who still have both the means and the inclination to maintain and enjoy their way of life. At the same time, it is hard not to remember that (I wonder how conscious the diners at Darna are of this as they eat and talk and laugh) they cannot travel more than a few kilometers away from this restaurant, or that the people of Tuba barely subsist on what the settlers who have stolen their land have left for them. An then I wonder how many of us, while dining in the myriad of restaurants serving every possible kind of cuisine in the better neighborhoods of Boston, New York, LA or Chicago, think about those leaving in trailers outside of New Orleans or in the ghettos of those same cities. Raises some interesting – if troubling – questions.
Sunday, Dec. 16, 2007 – Ramallah
Went to the Friends Meeting House this morning with a small group of Ramallans and visitors. The Quaker presence in Ramallah goes back to the middle of the nineteenth century, and the meeting house (built primarily with the support of the Quaker Meetings in Baltimore and Philadelphia) is a wonderfully spare space with oddly soothing stone walls that, despite their innate coolness, seem to warm the space and the people in it. The plain white wooden benches are arranged around a simple wooden table, the only ornamentation four long, thin red candles set in a small arrangement of Christmassy greens. At first it was strange for a nice Jewish boy like me, used to the anarchy of davening (praying) in Conservative and Orthodox shuls (synagogues) to sit in silence waiting for people to be moved to share their thoughts with the meeting. In time, however, SC’s and JZ’s sharing moved me enough to share some thoughts of my own.
Each of them talked, in different ways and from different experiences, about a sense of “open-ness.” At Darna last night KB and I had talked, among many other things, about Yitzchak (Isaac) and his brother Ishmael, and the relationship of the two stories read on the two days of Rosh Hashannah (Ishmael’s exile with his mother, Hagar, and near-death on the first day and the binding of Yitzchak on the second). At dinner CB had spoken of these stories and what they reflected about the idea of chosen-ness, and its relation to the current situation in Israel and Palestine – and the significance of the brothers’ reconciliation in Hebron when they come together to bury their father, Abraham. This morning, however, “open-ness” roused a different memory for me: the midrash (commentary on and/or explanation of the text by the rabbis) on Ishmael and Hagar. The text tells us that Hagar put her son, dying of thirst, away from her so that she will not have to watch him die, but God speaks to her, telling her of her son’s chosen-ness and God’s promise to him and “Hagar’s eyes were opened and she saw a stream.” Where, the rabbis ask, did that stream come from? It was, they answer, always there, but only when Hagar was “open” to the experience were her eyes opened and she could see it.
In the midst of all of the horrible things I have seen and experienced the last few weeks I have felt depressingly closed. It is difficult to see the possibility of resolution, much less justice arising in this place – and it has, as I have spoken about with some frequency, seriously challenged the beliefs and traditions that have been the foundation of my Judaism/Jewishness. I have felt a very unnerving, in Kalman Resnick’s words, “estrangement from my Judaism” and a powerful sadness, even emptiness, at the thought of that. At the same time, I have seen and heard a variety of insistent examples of hope and optimism, mostly coming from people – and in places – that were jarring. Tubans with barely anything serving us tea and bread; Israelis who continue to defy Israeli law to stand with their Palestinians friends even though they know that their presence can only help for the moment, but feel that they have to keep coming partly because these people ask them to be there, partly because it is something they feel they have to do for themselves; Christians who manage, out of their outrage at the situation, to do everything they can to actively support Palestinians’ resistance to all the manifestations of Occupation without somehow dismissing or demonizing Israelis or Jews – even settlers. As I sat in “meeting” I realized how much I long to tap into that “higher” nature, an instinct that is at the core of the best in Judaism – and how difficult it is for me to be open to those yearnings. Among a strange and diverse assembly of people, over a long, uncommon Shabbat, I was able to identify some of those feelings. It will probably be a while, perhaps a long time, after the end of this particular journey before I am able to see if I can be open enough for the hope to return and settle inside me.
Monday, Dec. 17, 2007 - Ramallah
Had the opportunity to attend a planning meeting of the Right to Enter Campaign (see www.righttoenter.ps/). They are working on issues of entry, re-entry and family re-unification. The more I hear about these issues the clearer it is that Israeli policy in these areas can only be for the sake of two objectives: 1) to minimize the Palestinian population in both Israel and Palestine by keeping as many Palestinians from returning if they leave, or pressuring Palestinians to leave because their options relative to maintaining their families are so limited and untenable, and 2) to keep as many “internationals,” activists and humanitarian aid workers out of Israel and Palestine in order to make life more difficult for Palestinians (therefore aiding in objective #1) and to minimize the number of “witnesses” to the excesses and abuses of the Occupation. The stories – and the insidiousness of the stories – just grow in number and intensity. KB who for years has simply helped, in innumerable ways, to support Palestinians, having her visa extension denied, is just one example I’ve seen of humanitarian aid workers being pressured to leave – or not allowed to enter. But, as destructive as this is, the stories about Palestinians in any number of categories, being denied re-entry into their own country and homes or suddenly forced to leave for any of a seemingly infinite number of absurd justifications (or, often, no justification at all). Examples:
1. A Palestinian American (born here, had been living in the U.S., so carrying a U.S. passport and Palestinian ID) who returned to Palestine many years ago, married a Palestinian and had two children. For 14 years she has lived here on a series of renewed visas. She is currently entering her ninth month of a pregnancy and restricted to bed due to complications until the birth. According to the “law” – which she has followed for all these years – she is supposed to leave the country (which for most people means going to Amman, Jordan) and returning in order to get a new visa. Because of her condition she applied for a humanitarian exemption so that she could get a new visa without having to travel – and was denied!! Her options are to risk her pregnancy by traveling out of the country – and having no guarantee that she will get a new visa, or to stay where she, illegally, which means she can be deported at any time or, if she leaves Palestine at any point would almost certainly not be permitted to return.
2. A Palestinian businessman, born in the U. S., who chose, fourteen years ago, to return to Palestine and invest in the Palestinian economy. He has built housing, a modern mall, created hundreds, perhaps thousands of jobs and pumped a tremendous amount of capital into the economy. He, too, has renewed his visa every three months for as long as he has been living here, in his home. This month he was denied a visa extension and living here quasi-legally while he goes through the draconian process of applying for a different status in order to be able to remain here, where he has lived for years.
3. (From the right to enter web site: In a continuing demonstration of Israel's arbitrary denial of entry policy, and disregard for the Palestinian population’s right to practice their religion and worship freely, Father Faris Khaleifat, priest of Ramallah's Greek Catholic Melkite Church was barred entry to the West Bank on Friday, 14 September. Father Faris, a holder of both Vatican and Jordanian passports, commented: "For the past six years, I have been traveling regularly between the West Bank and Jordan on church affairs without any problems whatsoever." Just one week ago, Father Faris traveled to Amman for several days and returned without incident. However, on Friday, his multiple entry visa as a clergyman serving in the oPt, valid until February 2008, was canceled by Israeli authorities at the Al Sheikh Hussein Bridge without explanation and he was forced to return to Jordan. His de facto deportation has left the Ramallah parish without its sole clergyman.
The questions, of course, that these examples (which are only a couple out of tens of thousands) raise have to do with why the Israeli authorities would deny these requests. There is absolutely no way that they can be justified on grounds of “security” so there must be another agenda or agendas. It is difficult for me to see any explanation other than, as I noted above, a desire to minimize the number of Palestinians, not only in what is currently Israel, but in Palestine or any part of the country that might at some point be either Israel or Palestine, or an effort to exclude anyone who might be a witness to the situation and would carry that information back with them to the “outside world.”
The main topic of this evening’s meeting was planning for a meeting tomorrow in East Jerusalem with leaders of a couple of dozen church groups headquartered in and around Jerusalem. The goal is to begin creating a coalition that can speak out here and abroad to bring visibility to the issue. The frustrating part of the conversation centered around cautions that the group not move to quickly or assertively since many of the churches have already indicated a hesitation to go to “public” since they are afraid that each time they “rock the boat” the Israeli authorities respond by being even more harsh in administering permits and visas. As in the example above, many clergy and church-related lay people have recently be prohibited from entering or forced to leave. The reality is that as disgusting as Israel’s intimidation tactics are, they are also all too effective!
Tuesday, Dec. 18th – Jerusalem
Came to Jerusalem with KB early this morning so that she could go to the Ministry of the Interior to re-file her request for an extension. Were met there by an Israeli friend who was to accompany her. We had some coffee and a particularly good almond croissant in a cafe across the street from the ministry until they went in – only to find out that the office doesn’t open until 11:30 a.m. KB and her friend finally went in, and after something of a wait she was told that they could not even look at her situation since (although it was recommended by another office that she come in today) she did not have an appointment! She was given an appointment for next week (only because she was able to convince the person she spoke to that she should set this up as an “urgent” appointment). The good news is that, with this appointment, KB will be here for the next week more or less legally. If suggested to her that there may well be an office somewhere in Jerusalem who’s only purpose is to devise way to add to KB’s anxiety!
When KB set off for her meeting I had lunch and made my way to the ICAHD office to meet Jeff Halper who just returned early this morning from Europe. He and one of his colleagues helped me check a few possible places to stay and finally, based on the rates for even the cheapest places in West Jerusalem, I have ended up back here at the Faisal (which is now owned by different people than were here the last time I stayed here. The place is full and, since I need a “private” room in order to work and maintain my sanity (I’ve moved into the stage, and have to much “stuff,” where “dormitory” living for over a week just doesn’t cut it!!) I am spending the night in a tiny room with a mattress on a a kind of shelf at one end for which one needs to climb a rickety metal ladder – much like the beds over the cabs of Winnebago-type campers! They’ve promised to squeeze a bed in for the night and switch me to a real room tomorrow when some people are leaving. We’ll see. Meanwhile, I have a work surface, it cool and comfortable tonight and there’s free WiFi – not to mention a “free” dinner of a huge portion of rice (with small pieces of, I think, eggplant and plenty of salad. More interesting, the place is full of (amazingly young) people. I sat next to Jurgen (as in Yoor-gin), a young man who is cycling from Germany to Egypt and back. He left Munich sometime in September, cycled with a friend through Italy and, I think Albania, Syria, Jordan and into Israel. Somewhere in Europe his friend’s “holiday” ran out and he flew home and Jurgen is continuing on his own, averaging, he says, about 75 kms./day (but some days, like in the mountains of Albania, he could only do around 35 kms in an eight hour day since the mountains were so steep at some places he had to carry his bike! I’m exhausted – and my legs ache – just thinking about it all.
Have gone down the street and purchased a nice big bottle of Mitz Escholiot (Grapefruit Juice), will do as much e-mail as I have the stamina to attack, hope that my bed has arrived and go to sleep. I begin meeting with Israelis tomorrow.
As I said Journal Entry #9 was longer than usual so I divided it into two installments. The previous one was #9A and this one is #9B
Journal Entry #9B
Friday, Dec. 14, 2007
Trip to Ramallah
Left Beit Sahour and came to Ramallah today – this time to stay for a few days.
Can’t write this without saying something about the landscape between Bethlehem and Ramallah again. It’s simply incredible – much of it is stark and the hills are daunting – and yet for millennia people have found their way here and built their homes – and lives – as if emerging organically from the hard earth. The olive trees here are a metaphor for the people who have relied on them for all these centuries: there is no explanation for why they survive, much less thrive, in this harsh environment, and yet they flourish with their bushy, pale green foliage shouting across the awesomely deep valleys, “we’re here and we’re not going anywhere!”
It occurred to me today part of why the settlements are not only politically and emotionally offensive but why, despite – or in part because of – their modern, architecturally (some think) pure excellence. Just like the very idea of the “neighborhoods,” they create, these buildings are imposed on the top of hills from which they have not emerged naturally like the villages they overlook and, in many cases, replaced. It makes me think – or perhaps only hope in some vengeful way – that, despite their conviction that this is “their” land, the settlers will never feel that they are part of it, because, of course, they’re not. Unlike the olive trees that declare their resolve, the red-roofed homes of the settlements shout out their invasiveness, declaring only how much they do not belong in these hills. Earlier I said that I could understand why so many people want this land. I realize now that the Palestinians (and perhaps some of the idealistic, hope-filled Jewish “pioneers” a century ago) love this place – the settlers, I think, only want it.
In Ramallah
Settled into the hotel (not great and overpriced, but it will keep me for a couple of days) and went out to explore. Walking through the city is very different than driving through in a Service Taxi. Ramallah is not quite as impressive as I thought last week now that I have seen Hebron, but it is quite the city none-the-less. There is a remarkable conglomeration of the traditional (i.e., old) and the modern. Many stores were closed since today is Friday, the traditional day off for Muslims, but there was plenty of bustle – I’m told it will be like this through Christmas (even many Muslim shopkeepers take advantage of the season) and the New Yorker in me is looking forward to what it will be like in the coming days.
Had an interesting lunch. Walking down one of the “spokes” (the five main streets that emanate from the central “Manata” literally, someone told me, “lighthouse” but generically a central circle/”round-about”) a voice called from above me. I looked up and, on a second floor terrace two young men in fast-food uniforms were asking whether I wanted to eat the “best food in Ramallah.” When I indicated that I would be curious to know where one would find the best food in Ramallah they motioned to a large sign for “Authentic Chicago Cheese Steaks” and told me that this is where I would find “real American food.” I explained that I had not traveled half way around the world to eat food I could get at home. Very good naturedly they acknowledged that they understood, but if I wanted some good American food I should come back.
After exploring a couple of the “spokes” and the smaller streets and alleys that run between them, something told me that I needed to, at very least, have a diet coke at “Chicago Cheese Steaks,” so I found my way back and climbed the stairs inside to a shiny, spotless fast-food restaurant that one might find in any American City. The young owner, Eshan (“everyone just calls me Sam”) sat and, after some questions about what a Chicago fast food joint was doing in the center of Ramallah, Sam’s story emerged. Born in a suburb of Ramallah, he grew up in Chicago, moved back and forth, ran a Cheese Steak place in Cicero and recently returned to Ramallah with his wife and, four days ago, opened this restaurant. Sam’s father, came in and sat with us. Bob was born in the same village as Sam. His father had lived in Chicago at the beginning of the 20th century, served in the U.S. Army during World War I, moved back to Ramallah where he was born and lived for many years before going to Chicago and joining the Marines with whom he served during the Korean War period.
But nothing in this place is as simple as that. As we talked, I asked Sam about what passport he had and how he continued to come back and forth between the States and Palestine. Although born here, by virtue of his father’s status, Sam is an American citizen and has both an American passport and Palestinian ID. The last time he came into Ben Gurion he showed only his American passport (as he had in the past), expecting to be able to go through and go home. This time, however, they checked the computer and found that he also possessed a Palestinian ID. They asked him why he had lied to them, told him that he could only come into Palestine by the Jordan/Allenby Bridge route, and sent him back to Chicago! I needn’t spend any time sharing my feelings about this.
Saturday, Dec. 15th – Ramallah
Spent the better part of Saturday with CB, a Mennonite from Canada who has been back and forth to Palestine, mostly with the Friends (Quakers) since 1982, has been in Ramallah for a the last few years on a series of six month visas and the Ministry of the Interior has refused her last request for an extension. It would be totally impossible for me to try and summarize in a few words the draconian process involved for people to renew visas, get work permits, etc. Apparently more and more people working for NGO’s, humanitarian and church groups have been denied visas or work permits or are being denied entry into Israel. As to renewing visas (including for people who have been here for years) I have noted to a number of people that what is going on relative to people who want to stay is eerily like nothing as much as what the Jewish refusenicks in the Soviet Union went through when they applied to get out! CB has been sent from office to office, told that she needs documents that no one ever looks at, called any number of officials and semi-officials and, in some cases, treated incredibly rudely. And, of course, with each new requirement or denial the bureaucrats have no obligation to explain their decisions or explain the basis on which their decisions are made. As I write this her visa extension was denied from the Israeli Ministry of the Interior and has submitted a new request through the Palestinian Ministry which is being forwarded to the Israelis. (Once again an example of the Palestinian Authority’s non-existent “authority:” the Palestinian Authority can validate her application to stay in Palestine but only the Israeli authorities have the authority to authorize the validation!) KB is due to find out if the Ministry of the Interior has granted the extension on Sunday.
After a wonderfully restful day finding out all about KB and sharing information about my trip – and my work in the U.S., KB took me for the most wonderfully civilized meal I’ve had in a few weeks - at Darna (“my house”) not far from my hotel. Good food is not in short supply in Ramallah – in fact, walking around the city I’ve thought that I probably haven’t seen as many places to eat crowded into a space outside of Manhattan. And, in a place like Ramallah, the options and quality run the full gamut. Because of budget and schedule considerations my diet has tended overwhelmingly towards the falafel, hummus, salad at street stands and “cafes” as well as pita and cheese at the guest house or from little groceries. (There is no shortage of my particular addiction: diet coke – although caffeine-free is a concept that is about as evident as “no-smoking” signs.) Saturday night, however, i had the opportunity to eat at a “fine” Palestinian restaurant with food and service standards equal to the U.S. but without an attempt to be inauthentically “western” (except for a few touches like the hamburger and fries listed on the children’s menu). Refreshingly, this somewhat more upscale eatery had many diners, including a group that was celebrating one of it’s member’s birthday including a large chocolate cake with a huge, celebratory sparkling candle.
It’s difficult to know what to do with conflicting feelings: on the one hand it is reassuring to see that there is an ongoing “normal” life evident here, that there are people who still have both the means and the inclination to maintain and enjoy their way of life. At the same time, it is hard not to remember that (I wonder how conscious the diners at Darna are of this as they eat and talk and laugh) they cannot travel more than a few kilometers away from this restaurant, or that the people of Tuba barely subsist on what the settlers who have stolen their land have left for them. An then I wonder how many of us, while dining in the myriad of restaurants serving every possible kind of cuisine in the better neighborhoods of Boston, New York, LA or Chicago, think about those leaving in trailers outside of New Orleans or in the ghettos of those same cities. Raises some interesting – if troubling – questions.
Sunday, Dec. 16, 2007 – Ramallah
Went to the Friends Meeting House this morning with a small group of Ramallans and visitors. The Quaker presence in Ramallah goes back to the middle of the nineteenth century, and the meeting house (built primarily with the support of the Quaker Meetings in Baltimore and Philadelphia) is a wonderfully spare space with oddly soothing stone walls that, despite their innate coolness, seem to warm the space and the people in it. The plain white wooden benches are arranged around a simple wooden table, the only ornamentation four long, thin red candles set in a small arrangement of Christmassy greens. At first it was strange for a nice Jewish boy like me, used to the anarchy of davening (praying) in Conservative and Orthodox shuls (synagogues) to sit in silence waiting for people to be moved to share their thoughts with the meeting. In time, however, SC’s and JZ’s sharing moved me enough to share some thoughts of my own.
Each of them talked, in different ways and from different experiences, about a sense of “open-ness.” At Darna last night KB and I had talked, among many other things, about Yitzchak (Isaac) and his brother Ishmael, and the relationship of the two stories read on the two days of Rosh Hashannah (Ishmael’s exile with his mother, Hagar, and near-death on the first day and the binding of Yitzchak on the second). At dinner CB had spoken of these stories and what they reflected about the idea of chosen-ness, and its relation to the current situation in Israel and Palestine – and the significance of the brothers’ reconciliation in Hebron when they come together to bury their father, Abraham. This morning, however, “open-ness” roused a different memory for me: the midrash (commentary on and/or explanation of the text by the rabbis) on Ishmael and Hagar. The text tells us that Hagar put her son, dying of thirst, away from her so that she will not have to watch him die, but God speaks to her, telling her of her son’s chosen-ness and God’s promise to him and “Hagar’s eyes were opened and she saw a stream.” Where, the rabbis ask, did that stream come from? It was, they answer, always there, but only when Hagar was “open” to the experience were her eyes opened and she could see it.
In the midst of all of the horrible things I have seen and experienced the last few weeks I have felt depressingly closed. It is difficult to see the possibility of resolution, much less justice arising in this place – and it has, as I have spoken about with some frequency, seriously challenged the beliefs and traditions that have been the foundation of my Judaism/Jewishness. I have felt a very unnerving, in Kalman Resnick’s words, “estrangement from my Judaism” and a powerful sadness, even emptiness, at the thought of that. At the same time, I have seen and heard a variety of insistent examples of hope and optimism, mostly coming from people – and in places – that were jarring. Tubans with barely anything serving us tea and bread; Israelis who continue to defy Israeli law to stand with their Palestinians friends even though they know that their presence can only help for the moment, but feel that they have to keep coming partly because these people ask them to be there, partly because it is something they feel they have to do for themselves; Christians who manage, out of their outrage at the situation, to do everything they can to actively support Palestinians’ resistance to all the manifestations of Occupation without somehow dismissing or demonizing Israelis or Jews – even settlers. As I sat in “meeting” I realized how much I long to tap into that “higher” nature, an instinct that is at the core of the best in Judaism – and how difficult it is for me to be open to those yearnings. Among a strange and diverse assembly of people, over a long, uncommon Shabbat, I was able to identify some of those feelings. It will probably be a while, perhaps a long time, after the end of this particular journey before I am able to see if I can be open enough for the hope to return and settle inside me.
Monday, Dec. 17, 2007 - Ramallah
Had the opportunity to attend a planning meeting of the Right to Enter Campaign (see www.righttoenter.ps/). They are working on issues of entry, re-entry and family re-unification. The more I hear about these issues the clearer it is that Israeli policy in these areas can only be for the sake of two objectives: 1) to minimize the Palestinian population in both Israel and Palestine by keeping as many Palestinians from returning if they leave, or pressuring Palestinians to leave because their options relative to maintaining their families are so limited and untenable, and 2) to keep as many “internationals,” activists and humanitarian aid workers out of Israel and Palestine in order to make life more difficult for Palestinians (therefore aiding in objective #1) and to minimize the number of “witnesses” to the excesses and abuses of the Occupation. The stories – and the insidiousness of the stories – just grow in number and intensity. KB who for years has simply helped, in innumerable ways, to support Palestinians, having her visa extension denied, is just one example I’ve seen of humanitarian aid workers being pressured to leave – or not allowed to enter. But, as destructive as this is, the stories about Palestinians in any number of categories, being denied re-entry into their own country and homes or suddenly forced to leave for any of a seemingly infinite number of absurd justifications (or, often, no justification at all). Examples:
1. A Palestinian American (born here, had been living in the U.S., so carrying a U.S. passport and Palestinian ID) who returned to Palestine many years ago, married a Palestinian and had two children. For 14 years she has lived here on a series of renewed visas. She is currently entering her ninth month of a pregnancy and restricted to bed due to complications until the birth. According to the “law” – which she has followed for all these years – she is supposed to leave the country (which for most people means going to Amman, Jordan) and returning in order to get a new visa. Because of her condition she applied for a humanitarian exemption so that she could get a new visa without having to travel – and was denied!! Her options are to risk her pregnancy by traveling out of the country – and having no guarantee that she will get a new visa, or to stay where she, illegally, which means she can be deported at any time or, if she leaves Palestine at any point would almost certainly not be permitted to return.
2. A Palestinian businessman, born in the U. S., who chose, fourteen years ago, to return to Palestine and invest in the Palestinian economy. He has built housing, a modern mall, created hundreds, perhaps thousands of jobs and pumped a tremendous amount of capital into the economy. He, too, has renewed his visa every three months for as long as he has been living here, in his home. This month he was denied a visa extension and living here quasi-legally while he goes through the draconian process of applying for a different status in order to be able to remain here, where he has lived for years.
3. (From the right to enter web site: In a continuing demonstration of Israel's arbitrary denial of entry policy, and disregard for the Palestinian population’s right to practice their religion and worship freely, Father Faris Khaleifat, priest of Ramallah's Greek Catholic Melkite Church was barred entry to the West Bank on Friday, 14 September. Father Faris, a holder of both Vatican and Jordanian passports, commented: "For the past six years, I have been traveling regularly between the West Bank and Jordan on church affairs without any problems whatsoever." Just one week ago, Father Faris traveled to Amman for several days and returned without incident. However, on Friday, his multiple entry visa as a clergyman serving in the oPt, valid until February 2008, was canceled by Israeli authorities at the Al Sheikh Hussein Bridge without explanation and he was forced to return to Jordan. His de facto deportation has left the Ramallah parish without its sole clergyman.
The questions, of course, that these examples (which are only a couple out of tens of thousands) raise have to do with why the Israeli authorities would deny these requests. There is absolutely no way that they can be justified on grounds of “security” so there must be another agenda or agendas. It is difficult for me to see any explanation other than, as I noted above, a desire to minimize the number of Palestinians, not only in what is currently Israel, but in Palestine or any part of the country that might at some point be either Israel or Palestine, or an effort to exclude anyone who might be a witness to the situation and would carry that information back with them to the “outside world.”
The main topic of this evening’s meeting was planning for a meeting tomorrow in East Jerusalem with leaders of a couple of dozen church groups headquartered in and around Jerusalem. The goal is to begin creating a coalition that can speak out here and abroad to bring visibility to the issue. The frustrating part of the conversation centered around cautions that the group not move to quickly or assertively since many of the churches have already indicated a hesitation to go to “public” since they are afraid that each time they “rock the boat” the Israeli authorities respond by being even more harsh in administering permits and visas. As in the example above, many clergy and church-related lay people have recently be prohibited from entering or forced to leave. The reality is that as disgusting as Israel’s intimidation tactics are, they are also all too effective!
Tuesday, Dec. 18th – Jerusalem
Came to Jerusalem with KB early this morning so that she could go to the Ministry of the Interior to re-file her request for an extension. Were met there by an Israeli friend who was to accompany her. We had some coffee and a particularly good almond croissant in a cafe across the street from the ministry until they went in – only to find out that the office doesn’t open until 11:30 a.m. KB and her friend finally went in, and after something of a wait she was told that they could not even look at her situation since (although it was recommended by another office that she come in today) she did not have an appointment! She was given an appointment for next week (only because she was able to convince the person she spoke to that she should set this up as an “urgent” appointment). The good news is that, with this appointment, KB will be here for the next week more or less legally. If suggested to her that there may well be an office somewhere in Jerusalem who’s only purpose is to devise way to add to KB’s anxiety!
When KB set off for her meeting I had lunch and made my way to the ICAHD office to meet Jeff Halper who just returned early this morning from Europe. He and one of his colleagues helped me check a few possible places to stay and finally, based on the rates for even the cheapest places in West Jerusalem, I have ended up back here at the Faisal (which is now owned by different people than were here the last time I stayed here. The place is full and, since I need a “private” room in order to work and maintain my sanity (I’ve moved into the stage, and have to much “stuff,” where “dormitory” living for over a week just doesn’t cut it!!) I am spending the night in a tiny room with a mattress on a a kind of shelf at one end for which one needs to climb a rickety metal ladder – much like the beds over the cabs of Winnebago-type campers! They’ve promised to squeeze a bed in for the night and switch me to a real room tomorrow when some people are leaving. We’ll see. Meanwhile, I have a work surface, it cool and comfortable tonight and there’s free WiFi – not to mention a “free” dinner of a huge portion of rice (with small pieces of, I think, eggplant and plenty of salad. More interesting, the place is full of (amazingly young) people. I sat next to Jurgen (as in Yoor-gin), a young man who is cycling from Germany to Egypt and back. He left Munich sometime in September, cycled with a friend through Italy and, I think Albania, Syria, Jordan and into Israel. Somewhere in Europe his friend’s “holiday” ran out and he flew home and Jurgen is continuing on his own, averaging, he says, about 75 kms./day (but some days, like in the mountains of Albania, he could only do around 35 kms in an eight hour day since the mountains were so steep at some places he had to carry his bike! I’m exhausted – and my legs ache – just thinking about it all.
Have gone down the street and purchased a nice big bottle of Mitz Escholiot (Grapefruit Juice), will do as much e-mail as I have the stamina to attack, hope that my bed has arrived and go to sleep. I begin meeting with Israelis tomorrow.
Marty Federman's 2007 Visit Journal - Entry # 9A
Marty Federman, the co-chair of the Boston Chapter of Jewish Voice for Peace, is traveling in Israel and the West Bank. On his trips, he always keeps a journal of what he sees as well as his observations. I have asked for his permission to post each entry on this blog and he gave his approval.
This entry is longer than usual so I am dividing it into two installments. This one is #9A and the next will be #9B
Journal Entry #9A
Thursday, Dec. 13, 2007 – Jenin
As I had hoped I was able to get to Jenin in the central far north of the West Bank.
The trip to Jenin began like the earlier trip to Bi’lin, but this time, instead of going directly to Ramallah we went by way of (not through) the Kalandia checkpoint. Our rather spontaneous decision to make this trip was motivated by the fact that DM from Seeds of Peace was going to Jenin to meet with some people there and he had transportation from the Kalandia checkpoint already arranged.
SJ and I took a Service taxi to the Palestinian side of the checkpoint (as a Palestinian with the “wrong” ID he would not be able to cross to the Jerusalem side anyway). The ride was mostly uneventful, except for the one checkpoint between Bethlehem and Kalandia. As we got to it there was a very long line of vehicles (autos, taxis, Service taxis, trucks of various sizes and buses). We sat for a couple of minutes and then, suddenly, our driver pulled out into the oncoming lane and began speeding down the road towards the checkpoint. I would guess that he drove the better part of a kilometer, passing all the cars in our lane and, miraculously not encountering any traffic coming the other way. When we got to the checkpoint itself (where a group of four or five Palestinian drivers were out of their vehicles and yelling, pushing and shoving one another, apparently because someone had tried to break into the line! We, however, were stopped only briefly and waved on. When we arrived at Kalandia I asked SJ why we were able to do this – both pass all the other cars and breeze through the checkpoint – and he told that “the driver has tricks.” When I pushed him to say a little more all he would share was that it’s totally up to the soldiers at the checkpoint what to do and that we had simply been lucky and, had they stopped us, ‘we would have had some problem.” I chose not to pursue the conversation.
A Half Hour at (not going through) Kalandia Checkpoint
Being at a checkpoint can be a fascinating experience even if you’re not going through it. SJ and I had arranged to meet DM at the Kalandia checkpoint – SJ, as a Palestinian can’t cross into Jerusalem them but DM, with his American passport, has no trouble crossing out. We arrived a little early and waited, first at the (what appeared to me to be) undisciplined intersection, with its frenzied traffic feeding mind-bogglingly frenzied traffic feeding into it from five non-linear directions. We stood in front of the small groceries that guard the roads, far from the checkpoint itself and I watched what appeared to be the random entrance and exit of a steady stream of vehicles – cars, trucks and the ever-present variety of taxis – coming in and out of the junction. At some point I was astonished to realize that there was no traffic light or any other kind of traffic control, and felt my level of anxiety rise as I tensed, waiting for what seem, logically, to be the inevitable collision to happen. As I stood and watched for a while, however, it began to become clear that there was, in fact, some hidden logic to the traffic pattern. Vehicles entered the intersection, rarely seeming to slow down, appearing to be headed for some other vehicle as if they were all large, enclosed bumper cars. Instead of crashing, however, The cars in these five steady streams seemed to know instinctually where the oncoming vehicles would be and the lines blended/wove into each other (horns, of course, always tooting as if to shout “I’m here, I’m coming, stay in your space”) creating some strange and wonderful continuously moving visual tapestry. Frequently individual cars or taxis would pull out or the stream, drift in front the groceries and stop, like NASCAR racers pulling out and over for a pit stop. When their drivers were finished with their business the vehicles would blend back into the ongoing flow of traffic, apparently with not much of a second thought.
One can’t help but wonder whether the ability to negotiate complex junctions like this one near Kalandia is genetic or if one could, in time, acquire the skill.
We waited on our side of the checkpoint for DM and met him beside the van he had arranged to take us to Jenin. Given the fact that I had had very little for breakfast I was grateful that DM had a large box of middle-eastern pastries with him – like any nice Jewish man whose mother has brought him up well, I guess he wouldn’t go visiting – even to Jenin – without bringing “a some nice danish!” From there we drove through the same incredible (and incredibly hilly) landscape, on the same roads that snake their way to Ramallah. This time, however, since we had the luxury of the van taking us through to Jenin, we didn’t have to change vehicles in Ramallah, so we skirted the city and headed into the more luxurious hills of the North. This area has a different feel from the South – less stark and, in places, more lushly green than the incredibly stunning starkness of the South At some points, however, the incline is no less intense – or frightening – than “down South.” And, of course, there are the inevitable checkpoints. We were stopped twice, asked for our documents, but as soon as DM showed his passport (and the driver identified us as “tierin” (tourists), we were waved on. This was very different than the last time I had gone to Jenin, when it took four different modes of transportation to go from Israel to Jenin (one to get to the border, three inside the West Bank plus two long hikes from one vehicle to the next). This time we were able to drive – one can’t say straight – through, on roads that wind around the settlements springing up in the North, probably adding at least an hour to the drive compared to what it would take to use the kind of direct roads available to and from the settlements.
On the other hand, the last time I was there, in 2003, was less than a year after the “Battle of Jenin” or, as the IDF called it “Operation Defensive Shield.” I have two especially strong memories of that trip, the first being the wonderful doctor who directed the Palestinian Medical Relief Committees in the Jenin district, and who treated my foot (which had been injured during a demonstration earlier in my trip). The other recollection is the utter devastation, despite obvious clean-up attempts, of both the refugee camp and the city itself. I said back then that Jenin must have been a lovely city at one time – broad, tree-lined boulevard-like roads coming in and out of the city, many trees, and that impression is still clear.
We drove through the city of Jenin to a lovely residential area I had not seen the last time I was here, until we came to a beautiful house surrounded by a garden of lush trees, which houses the offices of UNICEF and, apparently, other NGO’s. We sat on the front porch, sipping Arabic coffee and talking with RR who works with UNOPS. UNOPS is involved in a number of programs to identify what the nature of Palestinian society should be in the future, e.g., in 25 years. One initiative brings diverse groups together and working with them to find ways of transcending their differences and focus on their common goals, ending the Occupation, addressing poverty and economic issues, etc. One aspect is non-violent resistance training, including lobbying (Palestinian) government officials in support of this strategy. They work through schools and universities, have created venues in which to bring rival political groups (i.e., Hamas and Fatah) together, something that is particularly difficult, but apparently there have been ways, while these factions won’t meet officially (there is generally “word from above” (from faction leadership) that their people are not to talk with one another, they have managed to bring them together for “off the record’” dialogue. RR emphasized that in these cases they avoid “political” issues and focus on issues of civil society, issues that the factions share a common interest. One interesting aspect is that they have had particular success working with prisoners in (Israeli) prisons, something that is apparently possible for two reasons: first, factional separation is less in the prison (since they bond against their common jailers) and secondly, prisoners and former prisoners have a particular credibility within the Palestinian community – as has been seen by published statements that some prisoner groups have issued. UNOPS is attempting to get a statement of this sort together that would put forth the message “Hey, get back to Palestine!” (as in: don’t get caught up in your factional, divisive and ultimately self-destructive factional stuff.
Politically RR observed that the failure of Oslo, in part, was that it was “talking at the top,” leaders talking to one another but excluding the people at the grassroots. This also left space for Hamas to move in, setting part of the foundation of their election success in ’06. So, RR contends, there is a need for an internal dialogue between Palestinians and Palestinian organizations to build to a unified position. Israelis, in another way, also need to do this and, if neither the Palestinians nor the Israelis (“real people”) are ready to do this internal work (and that seems to be the case in both places) then dialogue between Israelis and Palestinians only tends to push people with already set opinions into even more extreme positions. These observations led to a fascinating conversation about the value of “dialogue, intra- and inter-group/faction/society, and (given the presence of people from Seeds of Peace) young people and the adults who work with them. There was some feeling that “dialogue” between Palestinians and Israelis is not really possible because dialogue must be between basically equal participants and, given the current situation, that is not possible, because of he “occupier/occupied” relationship and because Israelis due to this situation, come to the table with much more than Palestinians possibly came. On person made the point that in situations like Seeds of Peace there is an attempt to make everyone equal and as much the same as possible (e.g., when camp begins everyone gets the same tee-shirts) – but the reality is that this is a manufactured equality, the Palestinian kids are not socio-economically in the same place as the Israelis, and, whether they identify it or not when they are in the program, when they return to their communities they cannot help but see (now even more clearly than before) how unequal their situations are. This seems to be true even for those Palestinians (as we had discussed at Samer’s last week) who come from (relatively) elite families. Another example that someone pointed to was that leaders of programs like these try to create activities that everyone can participate in not always with a sensitivity to the fact that some of the things they are doing are not within the experience of the Palestinian kids, even though they are for the Israelis (e.g., some kinds of sports that are played at camp.)
The result of all of this is that there really can’t be “nornalization” since the situation – and the relationship between the two peoples – are inherently not normal. In order for “dialogue” to be successful (with adults and kids), Israelis need to acknowledge that there is an Occupation and that reality in a basic way defines the relationship between those trying to talk to one another. One person in our discussion said that “if Israel groups are doing their job in Israel (re: ending the occupation), and they come here to support what we are doing, then I’ll talk to them. But don’t ask me to “dialogue” with Israelis as if we are equals.” Someone else made the point that treating young people to a “good time” outside of Palestine often had a serious – and destructive – backlash. Some of “Arna’s Children,” for instance, wanted to go to Italy and were taken there, shown all sorts of wonderful things and given a great vacation – an escape from the lives they were leading in Jenin. The result, however, was that they were made much more intensely aware of what they didn’t have (in their real world back in Jenin) that some turned to much more extremist politics and, in some cases, even became Suicide Bombers.
Two particularly interesting (to me) views that were expressed:
One of the people in this discussion explained that the leaders of Fatah do not fundamentally understand Hamas’ relationship to the hundred year long history of the Islamic Brotherhood – and that they can’t dialogue from that point of view which is rooted in an inflexible theology. If this is true (I think) it presents some very pessimistic implications – and dilemmas. We should (many of us have said) accept the results of a clearly democratic election (which Israel and U.S. asked for), but perhaps the hardliners in Israel and the U.S. are actually right, i.e., Hamas is extremist (and/or a “terrorist organization,” and ultimately we can’t talk to them. (SJ actually compares Hamas to Neturei Carta in the sense that they are both extreme groups whose views (and expectations) of “nationhood,” though very different, stem from a fundamentalist – fundamentally extreme – theological place, each waiting to bring on it’s own “messiah.”
And, something SJ said which I found very thought-provoking: “The Jews occupy our land, but we occupy their dreams,” he said. When I asked him to elaborate he explained: if you have to use violence to control another (as in asserting your power through occupation) you have to live constantly with the fear that motivated the need for your control.
From the UNICEF building we headed for the refugee camp. As I mentioned earlier, when I was last here, less than a year after “Defensive Shield,” the camp (as well as parts of the city) still clearly showed the devastation of that invasion. In the years since then the camp, which is the largest and most city-like of the camps I’ve visited, has undergone a significant revival. New buildings have risen, including a new school, many residences and other structures. This should not be misunderstood as suggesting that living in the camp is a good thing – and certainly the majority of these resident refugees are living in what most of us would consider sub-(our)standard. But, things here are marginally better than they were, and the commitment of the people living here to forging the best possible life is amazing.
No place in the camp is more impressive than the Freedom Theater. At the risk of resorting to a cliché, the theatre has risen like a phoenix from the destruction of their original (very rudimentary) facility to become a more than respectable regional theatre with a small print and much larger media library, various programs and activities, all above and beyond the core theatrical pieces that are being produced in their small but impressive theatre. Struggling with the inevitable fiscal challenges, and the difficulty of audiences beyond the Jenin district getting to the theatre, they have created an impressive institution, sitting in a unique place.
A couple of last travel-related thoughts. We came back to Beit Sahour rather late, making the trip doubly nerve-wracking. First, the winding, steeply ascending and descending roads are, if it is possible, even more anxiety producing in the dark – a reality that was reflected in the way that our driver leaned progressively further towards the windshield, obviously squinting in order to see the twists and turns that seemed to come at a breakneck speed. Despite the difficulty, we arrived safely back at Kalandia checkpoint where SJ and I switched to a Service taxi. Secondly, the checkpoints, and the teenage-looking soldiers that people them, seem even more sinister at night than in the daylight. This may be a aspect of the innate “fear-factor” that comes with darkness, it may be that I senses an extra level of discomfort on the part of the soldiers. In any case, we were stopped at three places along the way back, plus a long detour through and around Abu Dis due to a military incursion which, I found out later, was tied to the search for Palestinian terrorists in the village. At one of the last checkpoints I and the five Palestinians in the taxi were told to get out. As I was stumbling (my cane got stuck on something) off the vehicle one of the soldiers became very annoyed at me, repeating something in Arabic that I didn’t hear at first or, of course, understand when I did hear it. SJ called over and said, in Hebrew, that I was an American and wasn’t being disrespectful, that didn’t understand what he (the soldier) had said. The soldier then turned to me and asked if that was correct, was I an American. I told him yes and he asked for my passport. After looking at it and confirming that I was born in New York, living in Boston and was a tourist returning to Bethlehem, he handed me my passport and told me to get back in the van. I sat for five or ten minutes and watched as the soldier checked my fellow-passengers’ documents, asked some questions that I would not have understood even had I been able to hear them, and finally allowed them to return to the vehicle. As he sat back down next to me SJ said quietly, “it was much easier than usual because you were with us,” which triggered a form of the feeling I have frequently when confronted by Israeli security people. On the one hand, I am glad that my presence can make things easier for people. On the other, I am furious that that is the reality. Why should someone like me have to be present for it to be “easier” for people who live here to get through checkpoints that shouldn’t exist in the first place? (One answer, of course, is that when I – or any American/International – am around the soldiers are more likely not to want to be seen as being unreasonable or abusive.)
This entry is longer than usual so I am dividing it into two installments. This one is #9A and the next will be #9B
Journal Entry #9A
Thursday, Dec. 13, 2007 – Jenin
As I had hoped I was able to get to Jenin in the central far north of the West Bank.
The trip to Jenin began like the earlier trip to Bi’lin, but this time, instead of going directly to Ramallah we went by way of (not through) the Kalandia checkpoint. Our rather spontaneous decision to make this trip was motivated by the fact that DM from Seeds of Peace was going to Jenin to meet with some people there and he had transportation from the Kalandia checkpoint already arranged.
SJ and I took a Service taxi to the Palestinian side of the checkpoint (as a Palestinian with the “wrong” ID he would not be able to cross to the Jerusalem side anyway). The ride was mostly uneventful, except for the one checkpoint between Bethlehem and Kalandia. As we got to it there was a very long line of vehicles (autos, taxis, Service taxis, trucks of various sizes and buses). We sat for a couple of minutes and then, suddenly, our driver pulled out into the oncoming lane and began speeding down the road towards the checkpoint. I would guess that he drove the better part of a kilometer, passing all the cars in our lane and, miraculously not encountering any traffic coming the other way. When we got to the checkpoint itself (where a group of four or five Palestinian drivers were out of their vehicles and yelling, pushing and shoving one another, apparently because someone had tried to break into the line! We, however, were stopped only briefly and waved on. When we arrived at Kalandia I asked SJ why we were able to do this – both pass all the other cars and breeze through the checkpoint – and he told that “the driver has tricks.” When I pushed him to say a little more all he would share was that it’s totally up to the soldiers at the checkpoint what to do and that we had simply been lucky and, had they stopped us, ‘we would have had some problem.” I chose not to pursue the conversation.
A Half Hour at (not going through) Kalandia Checkpoint
Being at a checkpoint can be a fascinating experience even if you’re not going through it. SJ and I had arranged to meet DM at the Kalandia checkpoint – SJ, as a Palestinian can’t cross into Jerusalem them but DM, with his American passport, has no trouble crossing out. We arrived a little early and waited, first at the (what appeared to me to be) undisciplined intersection, with its frenzied traffic feeding mind-bogglingly frenzied traffic feeding into it from five non-linear directions. We stood in front of the small groceries that guard the roads, far from the checkpoint itself and I watched what appeared to be the random entrance and exit of a steady stream of vehicles – cars, trucks and the ever-present variety of taxis – coming in and out of the junction. At some point I was astonished to realize that there was no traffic light or any other kind of traffic control, and felt my level of anxiety rise as I tensed, waiting for what seem, logically, to be the inevitable collision to happen. As I stood and watched for a while, however, it began to become clear that there was, in fact, some hidden logic to the traffic pattern. Vehicles entered the intersection, rarely seeming to slow down, appearing to be headed for some other vehicle as if they were all large, enclosed bumper cars. Instead of crashing, however, The cars in these five steady streams seemed to know instinctually where the oncoming vehicles would be and the lines blended/wove into each other (horns, of course, always tooting as if to shout “I’m here, I’m coming, stay in your space”) creating some strange and wonderful continuously moving visual tapestry. Frequently individual cars or taxis would pull out or the stream, drift in front the groceries and stop, like NASCAR racers pulling out and over for a pit stop. When their drivers were finished with their business the vehicles would blend back into the ongoing flow of traffic, apparently with not much of a second thought.
One can’t help but wonder whether the ability to negotiate complex junctions like this one near Kalandia is genetic or if one could, in time, acquire the skill.
We waited on our side of the checkpoint for DM and met him beside the van he had arranged to take us to Jenin. Given the fact that I had had very little for breakfast I was grateful that DM had a large box of middle-eastern pastries with him – like any nice Jewish man whose mother has brought him up well, I guess he wouldn’t go visiting – even to Jenin – without bringing “a some nice danish!” From there we drove through the same incredible (and incredibly hilly) landscape, on the same roads that snake their way to Ramallah. This time, however, since we had the luxury of the van taking us through to Jenin, we didn’t have to change vehicles in Ramallah, so we skirted the city and headed into the more luxurious hills of the North. This area has a different feel from the South – less stark and, in places, more lushly green than the incredibly stunning starkness of the South At some points, however, the incline is no less intense – or frightening – than “down South.” And, of course, there are the inevitable checkpoints. We were stopped twice, asked for our documents, but as soon as DM showed his passport (and the driver identified us as “tierin” (tourists), we were waved on. This was very different than the last time I had gone to Jenin, when it took four different modes of transportation to go from Israel to Jenin (one to get to the border, three inside the West Bank plus two long hikes from one vehicle to the next). This time we were able to drive – one can’t say straight – through, on roads that wind around the settlements springing up in the North, probably adding at least an hour to the drive compared to what it would take to use the kind of direct roads available to and from the settlements.
On the other hand, the last time I was there, in 2003, was less than a year after the “Battle of Jenin” or, as the IDF called it “Operation Defensive Shield.” I have two especially strong memories of that trip, the first being the wonderful doctor who directed the Palestinian Medical Relief Committees in the Jenin district, and who treated my foot (which had been injured during a demonstration earlier in my trip). The other recollection is the utter devastation, despite obvious clean-up attempts, of both the refugee camp and the city itself. I said back then that Jenin must have been a lovely city at one time – broad, tree-lined boulevard-like roads coming in and out of the city, many trees, and that impression is still clear.
We drove through the city of Jenin to a lovely residential area I had not seen the last time I was here, until we came to a beautiful house surrounded by a garden of lush trees, which houses the offices of UNICEF and, apparently, other NGO’s. We sat on the front porch, sipping Arabic coffee and talking with RR who works with UNOPS. UNOPS is involved in a number of programs to identify what the nature of Palestinian society should be in the future, e.g., in 25 years. One initiative brings diverse groups together and working with them to find ways of transcending their differences and focus on their common goals, ending the Occupation, addressing poverty and economic issues, etc. One aspect is non-violent resistance training, including lobbying (Palestinian) government officials in support of this strategy. They work through schools and universities, have created venues in which to bring rival political groups (i.e., Hamas and Fatah) together, something that is particularly difficult, but apparently there have been ways, while these factions won’t meet officially (there is generally “word from above” (from faction leadership) that their people are not to talk with one another, they have managed to bring them together for “off the record’” dialogue. RR emphasized that in these cases they avoid “political” issues and focus on issues of civil society, issues that the factions share a common interest. One interesting aspect is that they have had particular success working with prisoners in (Israeli) prisons, something that is apparently possible for two reasons: first, factional separation is less in the prison (since they bond against their common jailers) and secondly, prisoners and former prisoners have a particular credibility within the Palestinian community – as has been seen by published statements that some prisoner groups have issued. UNOPS is attempting to get a statement of this sort together that would put forth the message “Hey, get back to Palestine!” (as in: don’t get caught up in your factional, divisive and ultimately self-destructive factional stuff.
Politically RR observed that the failure of Oslo, in part, was that it was “talking at the top,” leaders talking to one another but excluding the people at the grassroots. This also left space for Hamas to move in, setting part of the foundation of their election success in ’06. So, RR contends, there is a need for an internal dialogue between Palestinians and Palestinian organizations to build to a unified position. Israelis, in another way, also need to do this and, if neither the Palestinians nor the Israelis (“real people”) are ready to do this internal work (and that seems to be the case in both places) then dialogue between Israelis and Palestinians only tends to push people with already set opinions into even more extreme positions. These observations led to a fascinating conversation about the value of “dialogue, intra- and inter-group/faction/society, and (given the presence of people from Seeds of Peace) young people and the adults who work with them. There was some feeling that “dialogue” between Palestinians and Israelis is not really possible because dialogue must be between basically equal participants and, given the current situation, that is not possible, because of he “occupier/occupied” relationship and because Israelis due to this situation, come to the table with much more than Palestinians possibly came. On person made the point that in situations like Seeds of Peace there is an attempt to make everyone equal and as much the same as possible (e.g., when camp begins everyone gets the same tee-shirts) – but the reality is that this is a manufactured equality, the Palestinian kids are not socio-economically in the same place as the Israelis, and, whether they identify it or not when they are in the program, when they return to their communities they cannot help but see (now even more clearly than before) how unequal their situations are. This seems to be true even for those Palestinians (as we had discussed at Samer’s last week) who come from (relatively) elite families. Another example that someone pointed to was that leaders of programs like these try to create activities that everyone can participate in not always with a sensitivity to the fact that some of the things they are doing are not within the experience of the Palestinian kids, even though they are for the Israelis (e.g., some kinds of sports that are played at camp.)
The result of all of this is that there really can’t be “nornalization” since the situation – and the relationship between the two peoples – are inherently not normal. In order for “dialogue” to be successful (with adults and kids), Israelis need to acknowledge that there is an Occupation and that reality in a basic way defines the relationship between those trying to talk to one another. One person in our discussion said that “if Israel groups are doing their job in Israel (re: ending the occupation), and they come here to support what we are doing, then I’ll talk to them. But don’t ask me to “dialogue” with Israelis as if we are equals.” Someone else made the point that treating young people to a “good time” outside of Palestine often had a serious – and destructive – backlash. Some of “Arna’s Children,” for instance, wanted to go to Italy and were taken there, shown all sorts of wonderful things and given a great vacation – an escape from the lives they were leading in Jenin. The result, however, was that they were made much more intensely aware of what they didn’t have (in their real world back in Jenin) that some turned to much more extremist politics and, in some cases, even became Suicide Bombers.
Two particularly interesting (to me) views that were expressed:
One of the people in this discussion explained that the leaders of Fatah do not fundamentally understand Hamas’ relationship to the hundred year long history of the Islamic Brotherhood – and that they can’t dialogue from that point of view which is rooted in an inflexible theology. If this is true (I think) it presents some very pessimistic implications – and dilemmas. We should (many of us have said) accept the results of a clearly democratic election (which Israel and U.S. asked for), but perhaps the hardliners in Israel and the U.S. are actually right, i.e., Hamas is extremist (and/or a “terrorist organization,” and ultimately we can’t talk to them. (SJ actually compares Hamas to Neturei Carta in the sense that they are both extreme groups whose views (and expectations) of “nationhood,” though very different, stem from a fundamentalist – fundamentally extreme – theological place, each waiting to bring on it’s own “messiah.”
And, something SJ said which I found very thought-provoking: “The Jews occupy our land, but we occupy their dreams,” he said. When I asked him to elaborate he explained: if you have to use violence to control another (as in asserting your power through occupation) you have to live constantly with the fear that motivated the need for your control.
From the UNICEF building we headed for the refugee camp. As I mentioned earlier, when I was last here, less than a year after “Defensive Shield,” the camp (as well as parts of the city) still clearly showed the devastation of that invasion. In the years since then the camp, which is the largest and most city-like of the camps I’ve visited, has undergone a significant revival. New buildings have risen, including a new school, many residences and other structures. This should not be misunderstood as suggesting that living in the camp is a good thing – and certainly the majority of these resident refugees are living in what most of us would consider sub-(our)standard. But, things here are marginally better than they were, and the commitment of the people living here to forging the best possible life is amazing.
No place in the camp is more impressive than the Freedom Theater. At the risk of resorting to a cliché, the theatre has risen like a phoenix from the destruction of their original (very rudimentary) facility to become a more than respectable regional theatre with a small print and much larger media library, various programs and activities, all above and beyond the core theatrical pieces that are being produced in their small but impressive theatre. Struggling with the inevitable fiscal challenges, and the difficulty of audiences beyond the Jenin district getting to the theatre, they have created an impressive institution, sitting in a unique place.
A couple of last travel-related thoughts. We came back to Beit Sahour rather late, making the trip doubly nerve-wracking. First, the winding, steeply ascending and descending roads are, if it is possible, even more anxiety producing in the dark – a reality that was reflected in the way that our driver leaned progressively further towards the windshield, obviously squinting in order to see the twists and turns that seemed to come at a breakneck speed. Despite the difficulty, we arrived safely back at Kalandia checkpoint where SJ and I switched to a Service taxi. Secondly, the checkpoints, and the teenage-looking soldiers that people them, seem even more sinister at night than in the daylight. This may be a aspect of the innate “fear-factor” that comes with darkness, it may be that I senses an extra level of discomfort on the part of the soldiers. In any case, we were stopped at three places along the way back, plus a long detour through and around Abu Dis due to a military incursion which, I found out later, was tied to the search for Palestinian terrorists in the village. At one of the last checkpoints I and the five Palestinians in the taxi were told to get out. As I was stumbling (my cane got stuck on something) off the vehicle one of the soldiers became very annoyed at me, repeating something in Arabic that I didn’t hear at first or, of course, understand when I did hear it. SJ called over and said, in Hebrew, that I was an American and wasn’t being disrespectful, that didn’t understand what he (the soldier) had said. The soldier then turned to me and asked if that was correct, was I an American. I told him yes and he asked for my passport. After looking at it and confirming that I was born in New York, living in Boston and was a tourist returning to Bethlehem, he handed me my passport and told me to get back in the van. I sat for five or ten minutes and watched as the soldier checked my fellow-passengers’ documents, asked some questions that I would not have understood even had I been able to hear them, and finally allowed them to return to the vehicle. As he sat back down next to me SJ said quietly, “it was much easier than usual because you were with us,” which triggered a form of the feeling I have frequently when confronted by Israeli security people. On the one hand, I am glad that my presence can make things easier for people. On the other, I am furious that that is the reality. Why should someone like me have to be present for it to be “easier” for people who live here to get through checkpoints that shouldn’t exist in the first place? (One answer, of course, is that when I – or any American/International – am around the soldiers are more likely not to want to be seen as being unreasonable or abusive.)
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
Will One of These Organizations Change the World?
Will One of These Organizations Change the World?
(or at least 11289 square miles of it)
I often think about the quote attributed to Margaret Mead
Do you ever consider the possibility that there is such a group right now which might, with support, effect a just peace between the Palestinians and the Israelis?
Would you like to do a little research to try to discover it?
If you find what you believe to be that group, you might want to make a year-end financial contribution to, or you might want to devote some time working with, the organization. Who knows, you could, by what you do, change that small sliver of the world.
Here are some organizations to consider. I support and know much about some, know a little about some others and know almost nothing about the rest. In this post, I am not making any recommendations. I am leaving any decision up to you based on your knowledge or your research.
The Abraham Fund
American-Arab Anti-Discrimination Committee
American Friends Service Committee
American Jewish World Service
Americans for Peace Now
Amnesty International
B’tselem:The Israeli Information Center for Human Rights in the Occupied Territories
Code Pink
Doctors Without Borders
Facing History and Ourselves
Friends of Sabeel - North America
Gush Shalom
Heschel Center for Environmental Learning and Leadership
Human Rights Watch
Israeli Committee Against House Demolitions
International Solidarity Movement
Interns for Peace
IPCRI Israel/Palestine Center for Research and Information
Jewish Peace Fellowship
New Israel Fund
Jewish Voice for Peace
American Friends of Neve Shalom/ Wahat al-Salam
One Voice
Parents Circle of Bereaved Parents
Partners for Peace – Jerusalem Women Speak
Rabbis for Human Rights
Seeds of Peace
The Shalom Center
Tikkun: Institute for Labor and Mental Health
United for Peace and Justice
U. S. Campaign to End the Occupation
Women in Black
(or at least 11289 square miles of it)
I often think about the quote attributed to Margaret Mead
“Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it's the only thing that ever has.”
Do you ever consider the possibility that there is such a group right now which might, with support, effect a just peace between the Palestinians and the Israelis?
Would you like to do a little research to try to discover it?
If you find what you believe to be that group, you might want to make a year-end financial contribution to, or you might want to devote some time working with, the organization. Who knows, you could, by what you do, change that small sliver of the world.
Here are some organizations to consider. I support and know much about some, know a little about some others and know almost nothing about the rest. In this post, I am not making any recommendations. I am leaving any decision up to you based on your knowledge or your research.
The Abraham Fund
American-Arab Anti-Discrimination Committee
American Friends Service Committee
American Jewish World Service
Americans for Peace Now
Amnesty International
B’tselem:The Israeli Information Center for Human Rights in the Occupied Territories
Code Pink
Doctors Without Borders
Facing History and Ourselves
Friends of Sabeel - North America
Gush Shalom
Heschel Center for Environmental Learning and Leadership
Human Rights Watch
Israeli Committee Against House Demolitions
International Solidarity Movement
Interns for Peace
IPCRI Israel/Palestine Center for Research and Information
Jewish Peace Fellowship
New Israel Fund
Jewish Voice for Peace
American Friends of Neve Shalom/ Wahat al-Salam
One Voice
Parents Circle of Bereaved Parents
Partners for Peace – Jerusalem Women Speak
Rabbis for Human Rights
Seeds of Peace
The Shalom Center
Tikkun: Institute for Labor and Mental Health
United for Peace and Justice
U. S. Campaign to End the Occupation
Women in Black
Monday, December 10, 2007
Hanukkah - The Rest of the Story
What a great story. The evil Syrians (Greeks? Babylonians? North Koreans? who cares?) tried to assimilate us Hebrews. About 167BCE Mattathias and his five sons fought back and defeated the enemy. The Temple (the 2nd) was in rough shape. There was not enough oil to last the eight days until the rededication but - a miracle - it did. And today we light the eight candles and celebrate Hanukkah.
Funny thing, the rabbis hardly ever mentioned the Maccabees in the Talmud.
What gives?
As Paul Harvey says, here is ----- the rest of the story.
(I acknowledge taking nearly all of what follows, including the quotes, from Jewish Literacy by Rabbi Joseph Telushkin. For a more complete description of the events from 167BCE to 135CE, read Chapters 64 to 80)
(There is so much in this history that is relevant to the present situation. I will simply lay out excerpts from the book but encourage you to post comments with your thoughts.)
THE MACCABEES (167BCE)
Antiochus Epiphanes, King of Syria (175-163BCE) was a tyrant whose actions led to the successful revolt of the Maccabees.
Also known as Hasmoneans, they became oppressors when they got power. “Unfortunately the Maccabees were more noble in opposition than in power. They had grown so accustomed to fighting that they seemed incapable of working with anyone who disagreed with them about anything.”
Mattathias' descendant “King Alexander Yannai executed 800 of his Pharisee opponents after first forcing them to witness the murders of their wives and children. While the slaughter was going on, Yahhai was present, hosting a Greek-style drinking party. (For Jews the episode was doubly tragic; it was as if the descendants of the Marranos had later become the leaders of the Spanish Inquisition.)”
The Maccabees terrible moral and religious decline explains why there is almost no mention of them in the Talmud. Today, in fact, when Jews think of the miracle of Hanukkah, they are less apt to think of the Mccabean rebellion than of the small cruse of oli that burned for either days when the Temple was rededicated.”
During a civil war in 63 BCE between Mattathias’ descendants, the Romans were invited in. “It is one of the less proud facts of Jewish history that Rome occupied Jerusalem in 63 BCE not by invasion but by invitation.”
“The tragedy was now complete. The original Maccabees had freed the Jews from foreign rule; their corrupt descendants now returned the Jews to subjugation under an alien (and Pagan) power.”
THE ZEALOTS AND THE GREAT REVOLT (66-70CE)
“The Jew’s Great Revolt against Rome in 66 CE led to one of the greatest catastrophes in Jewish life and, in retrospect, might well have been a terrible mistake.”
The zealots, active since about 6CE, were anti-Rome and believed that all means were justified to attain political and religious liberty. The revolt began in the north and no help came from Jerusalem.
When the north fell to the Romans, the zealots came to Jerusalem, started a suicidal civil war, killing every Jewish leader not as radical as them. Some great figures of ancient Israel, like Rabbi Yochanan ben Zakkai, opposed the revolt.
By 70CE, the walls of Jerusalem were breached by the Romans and the Temple was destroyed leaving only one wall standing (the Western Wall – the Kotel).
It is estimated that one million Jews died in the Great Revolt.
MASADA 73CE
After the fall of the temple, the surviving Zealots fled to the fortress of Masada. The Romans laid siege as the Zealots had been in revolt for nearly 70 years and had started the Great Revolt. Eventually the Zealot men killed their wives and children and then each other.
This episode is not mentioned in the Talmud. Why? Perhaps there was Rabbinic anger at the extremist Zealots who had died there. “Furthermore, at a time when the rabbis were desperately attempting to reconstruct a Judaism that could survive without a temple and without a sovereign state, they hardly were interested in glorifying the mass suicide of Jews who believed that life without sovereignty was not worth living.”
The story of Masada was a more or less forgotten episode until the 1920’s “when the Hebrew writer Isaac Lamdan wrote “Masada” a poetic history of the anguished Jewish fight against a world full of enemies.”
BAR-KOKHBA REVOLT (132-135CE)
Simon Bar-Kokhba organized a rebellion again the Romans in 132CE. The reasons for the revolt are unclear. There seems no evidence that the Romans were trying to eradicate Judaism. Rabbi Akiva (135CE), perhaps the Talmud’s greatest scholar, was a strong supporter of Bar-Kokhba, saying that he was the Messiah.
When it was over and the Romans were victorious, nearly the entire land of Judea lay waste. Fifty percent of the Judea’s population was dead. Rabbi Akiva was executed by burning. Jews were outnumbered by non-Jews. Tens of thousands of Jewish men and women were sold into slavery and other women were forced to become prostitutes.
“In the opinion of many Jewish historians, the failure of this rebellion along with the Great Revolt was the greatest catastrophe to befall the Jewish people prior to the Holocaust. It led to the total loss of Jewish political authority in Israel until 1948.”
“This loss in itself exacerbated the magnitude of later Jewish catastrophes, since it precluded Israel from being used as a refuge for the large numbers of Jews fleeing persecutions elsewhere.”
“As a rule, people regard bold actions they admire as courageous, and those of which they disapprove as foolhardy. In 1980, Israeli General Yehoshafat Harkabi shocked Israeli public opinion by arguing that one of the great Jewish national heroes, Simeon Bar-Kokhba, the leader of a second-century revolt against Rome should be placed into the category of the foolhardy rather than the courageous” arguing “that Bar-Kokhba initiated a revolt that was unnecessary and unwinnable.”
Funny thing, the rabbis hardly ever mentioned the Maccabees in the Talmud.
What gives?
As Paul Harvey says, here is ----- the rest of the story.
(I acknowledge taking nearly all of what follows, including the quotes, from Jewish Literacy by Rabbi Joseph Telushkin. For a more complete description of the events from 167BCE to 135CE, read Chapters 64 to 80)
(There is so much in this history that is relevant to the present situation. I will simply lay out excerpts from the book but encourage you to post comments with your thoughts.)
THE MACCABEES (167BCE)
Antiochus Epiphanes, King of Syria (175-163BCE) was a tyrant whose actions led to the successful revolt of the Maccabees.
Also known as Hasmoneans, they became oppressors when they got power. “Unfortunately the Maccabees were more noble in opposition than in power. They had grown so accustomed to fighting that they seemed incapable of working with anyone who disagreed with them about anything.”
Mattathias' descendant “King Alexander Yannai executed 800 of his Pharisee opponents after first forcing them to witness the murders of their wives and children. While the slaughter was going on, Yahhai was present, hosting a Greek-style drinking party. (For Jews the episode was doubly tragic; it was as if the descendants of the Marranos had later become the leaders of the Spanish Inquisition.)”
The Maccabees terrible moral and religious decline explains why there is almost no mention of them in the Talmud. Today, in fact, when Jews think of the miracle of Hanukkah, they are less apt to think of the Mccabean rebellion than of the small cruse of oli that burned for either days when the Temple was rededicated.”
During a civil war in 63 BCE between Mattathias’ descendants, the Romans were invited in. “It is one of the less proud facts of Jewish history that Rome occupied Jerusalem in 63 BCE not by invasion but by invitation.”
“The tragedy was now complete. The original Maccabees had freed the Jews from foreign rule; their corrupt descendants now returned the Jews to subjugation under an alien (and Pagan) power.”
THE ZEALOTS AND THE GREAT REVOLT (66-70CE)
“The Jew’s Great Revolt against Rome in 66 CE led to one of the greatest catastrophes in Jewish life and, in retrospect, might well have been a terrible mistake.”
The zealots, active since about 6CE, were anti-Rome and believed that all means were justified to attain political and religious liberty. The revolt began in the north and no help came from Jerusalem.
When the north fell to the Romans, the zealots came to Jerusalem, started a suicidal civil war, killing every Jewish leader not as radical as them. Some great figures of ancient Israel, like Rabbi Yochanan ben Zakkai, opposed the revolt.
By 70CE, the walls of Jerusalem were breached by the Romans and the Temple was destroyed leaving only one wall standing (the Western Wall – the Kotel).
It is estimated that one million Jews died in the Great Revolt.
MASADA 73CE
After the fall of the temple, the surviving Zealots fled to the fortress of Masada. The Romans laid siege as the Zealots had been in revolt for nearly 70 years and had started the Great Revolt. Eventually the Zealot men killed their wives and children and then each other.
This episode is not mentioned in the Talmud. Why? Perhaps there was Rabbinic anger at the extremist Zealots who had died there. “Furthermore, at a time when the rabbis were desperately attempting to reconstruct a Judaism that could survive without a temple and without a sovereign state, they hardly were interested in glorifying the mass suicide of Jews who believed that life without sovereignty was not worth living.”
The story of Masada was a more or less forgotten episode until the 1920’s “when the Hebrew writer Isaac Lamdan wrote “Masada” a poetic history of the anguished Jewish fight against a world full of enemies.”
BAR-KOKHBA REVOLT (132-135CE)
Simon Bar-Kokhba organized a rebellion again the Romans in 132CE. The reasons for the revolt are unclear. There seems no evidence that the Romans were trying to eradicate Judaism. Rabbi Akiva (135CE), perhaps the Talmud’s greatest scholar, was a strong supporter of Bar-Kokhba, saying that he was the Messiah.
When it was over and the Romans were victorious, nearly the entire land of Judea lay waste. Fifty percent of the Judea’s population was dead. Rabbi Akiva was executed by burning. Jews were outnumbered by non-Jews. Tens of thousands of Jewish men and women were sold into slavery and other women were forced to become prostitutes.
“In the opinion of many Jewish historians, the failure of this rebellion along with the Great Revolt was the greatest catastrophe to befall the Jewish people prior to the Holocaust. It led to the total loss of Jewish political authority in Israel until 1948.”
“This loss in itself exacerbated the magnitude of later Jewish catastrophes, since it precluded Israel from being used as a refuge for the large numbers of Jews fleeing persecutions elsewhere.”
“As a rule, people regard bold actions they admire as courageous, and those of which they disapprove as foolhardy. In 1980, Israeli General Yehoshafat Harkabi shocked Israeli public opinion by arguing that one of the great Jewish national heroes, Simeon Bar-Kokhba, the leader of a second-century revolt against Rome should be placed into the category of the foolhardy rather than the courageous” arguing “that Bar-Kokhba initiated a revolt that was unnecessary and unwinnable.”
Thursday, December 6, 2007
Marty Federman's 2007 Visit Journal - Entry # 8
Marty Federman, the co-chair of the Boston Chapter of Jewish Voice for Peace, is traveling in Israel and the West Bank. On his trips, he always keeps a journal of what he sees as well as his observations. I have asked for his permission to post each entry on this blog and he gave his approval.
Journal Entry #8
A special hello to S-O-L-O-M-O-N-I-A (apparently he was upset that I spelled his name wrong), So glad you're monitoring my e-mail, perhaps you can learn some of the truth.
To everyone else, hope you're all well - I am.
Marty
Wednesday, Dec. 5, 2007 - A Day in Bi’lin
Part I: the ride to Bi’lin
We began in Bethlehem where we picked up B and her mother, and started out to Bi’lin via Ramallah in comfortable Volkswagen Service (pronounced ser-veece) taxi that SJ had arranged for us. Bi’lin is Northwest of Bethlehem and Jerusalem, directly west of Ramallah so the fastest way there would be to skirt the western side of Jerusalem and follow one of the fast roads up towards Bi’lin – but this would take us through Israeli territory where SJ and our driver are not permitted. Instead, we drove around the East side of Jerusalem ( precisely the wrong direction) and over secondary roads that snake through the Judean hills, avoiding the vast areas of the many parts of the Maale Adumim settlements, in order to curve around and enter into the heart of Ramallah from the east, drive through the city and out towards the West and Bi’lin. I would guess that this route adds an hour or two to the trip compared to the route if it was permissible to go directly.
The advantage (to us as basically American tourists) is that much of the area through which we drove was incredibly beautiful: large hills that roll into deep valleys with areas of stark, earth-colored panoramas, broken by sections of lush greenery blanketing the slopes. What is amazing are the olive trees that grow even from the rock and earth on otherwise barren hills, defying one’s expectations of what a tree needs to thrive. And there is no way to fully describe the feeling of traveling (excuse the cliché but there’s no other way to say it) the ribbon of highway that snakes through the hills, turning back and forth on itself in order to negotiate the repetitious descent and ascent through the mountains. Needless to say, our driver managed the drive without any appreciable slowing down as he maneuvered around the hairpin curves as if they didn’t exist.
The route took as past and through numerous Palestinian villages including (I believe) Eizariya, which dates from the crusades when the European armies passing through deposited a group of thieves and criminals that had been traveling with them from France (a kind of Australia-like story in the heart of the holy land!). In another village, SJ pointed out a mosque and church next to each other which were constructed cooperatively by Christians and Muslims in the village, and whose mosque’s minaret is the tallest structure in the West Bank.
Ramallah (During the Day)
Ramallah is a real city! The last time i was in Ramallah was in 2001 when we went to meet Yasser Arafat at the compound that he was restricted to by Israeli authorities – and that time we drove directly to the compound without ever seeing any of the city. Today we drove through the heart of the city and realized both how large it is and how vibrant – with all the wonderful things [restaurants, shops of all kinds, high fashion, coffee shops and people) and not so wonderful things (noise, unbelievable traffic, congestion and (too many) people]. I will definitely have to come back here when I have time to explore.
Bi’lin
Finally we arrived in Bi’lin which sits in an area of about 1,800 people, with beautiful, rolling farmland all around it. Not surprisingly there are a number of settlements growing nearby which have already taken a significant amount of this land. Bi’lin has been the subject of an unusual amount of media attention because of weekly demonstrations along the route of the Separation Fence that has gone up between the village and the settlements – and because of a suit filed in Israel’s Supreme Court demanding a return of the land. It has especially received attention in recent weeks because the village actually won its case and the Israeli authorities were ordered to re-route the Fence giving, not all but a significant part of the appropriated farmland back to the village. The problem, of course, is that the court in Israel has no power to implement its rulings, leaving that, in this case, to the military authorities who have been order to reroute the Fence “in a timely fashion.” No one really knows what the military defines as “timely” so there is real doubt as to whether the land will really revert to the village or not. Experience says that the Israeli government will milk the decision for all it’s worth, showing that “the only authentic democracy in the Middle East” has an independent judiciary and then do little or nothing to actually make it happen, hoping that, as usually is the case, people will simply forget about Bi’lin.
I asked EB, one of the local coordinators about what effect the decision has had on the energy around the demonstrations. Large groups of Israelis and Internationals have been coming pretty consistently every Friday for the demonstrations at the Fence, and I asked EB if he thought this would end, or at least decrease, now that people think “We’ve Won!” One response to this concern has been the organization of the Bi’lin Friends of Justice and Freedom Society, with an office (which, just having been opened in a house in the village, currently has a desk, a couple of plastic chairs and a computer) and a web site. The idea is to create a network of people to keep the energy around Bi’lin high as well as to help surrounding villages which are also threatened but do not yet have an organized resistance.
We drove to the site of the demonstrations and, once again were able to see the Kafkaesque way that the Wall/Fence/Barrier snakes around settlements, through farmland and between villages. At this point the Barrier is a stretch of the 50 meters or so wide open land, fence, empty space, electrified fence, security road, empty space. There are plans to construct part of it as the 30 foot concrete wall if the new route (should it happen) goes closer to the settlements. I am including no “commentary” about this – everything that can be said about this horrific “Barrier” has already been said.
The bright spot of this visit to Bi’lin (as is often the case) is it’s children. The data on trauma amongst children throughout the occupied territories is growing, but, at least on the surface, it is amazing how resilient they are. EB’s house (quite lovely) is filled with his children, none cuter (or more aware of her own cute-ness) than Mayad, his daughter who I would guess is five years old or so. In their house she played with us, mugged for our cameras (and took some shots with B’s camera) and later, in the BFJF office walked around giving us snacks. A heartbreaking moment (for me, anyway) came on the hill next to the Fence. As we were standing there observing the path a couple of Israeli soldiers appeared on the crest of the hill in the direction of the settlement. Mayad began running towards her father, not so much frightened as startled, repeating something in Arabic which we were told was “the soldiers are coming, the soldiers are coming.” I’m not sure what was more upsetting, the fact that children like Mayard are subjected to this ugliness, or that she seemed to react as if this was nothing unusual, just a part of her young life. Meanwhile, one of her brothers picked up a small cardboard box, apparently from “rubber” bullet cartridges. What a life!
Ramallah (At night)
The trip back began in a not-so-nice Service taxi which bumped it’s way from Bi’lin to the edge of downtown Ramallah where he dropped us off to change to a vehicle to take us back to Bethlehem. B, her mother and I followed SJ as he weaved rapidly through the early evening crowded streets. Ramallah at night is like a strange combination of Kikar Tzion (Zion Square in downtown Jerusalem), Damascus Gate and Time Square (the old Times Square before the rehab). Brightly lit with neon signs up and down the main streets, a glorious mixture of modern, high-fashion shops, oriental spice shops, fast-food restaurants and businesses selling cheap, gaudy toys, candies and souvenirs. I only wish we could have taken the time to take it all in – our only pause was at an ATM where B’s mother and I both tried – and failed – to get Shekels from the machine. Then we returned to scurrying after SJ. After walking through the center of the city we turned off the main streets into an area that somehow reminded me of leaving Times Square and walking towards Eighth or Ninth Avenue, where we cam to a spot with dozens of Service and regular taxis, and a sea of drivers shouting to us, asking where we wanted to go. SJ just walked past them all (with us in tow) and headed for “Tenth Ave.” where there was only one yellow Service taxi which SJ walked directly to and motioned us to get in. Who this driver was, how he knew to be waiting there and how SJ knew where he would be waiting is a mystery that is beyond my understanding. I have learned that SJ knows people, knows where to find things, and how to maneuver through the morass that is the craziness of this Occupation – and I don’t question him! We drove back through the hills between Ramallah and Bethlehem, most of the time with my eyes closed, partly because I was exhausted but partly because I did not really want to be aware of what it was like to drive these roads and through these mountains in the dark. Before i knew it, we were in front of the Beit Sahour guesthouse and SJ, B and B’s mother were on their way back to Bethlehem.
Journal Entry #8
A special hello to S-O-L-O-M-O-N-I-A (apparently he was upset that I spelled his name wrong), So glad you're monitoring my e-mail, perhaps you can learn some of the truth.
To everyone else, hope you're all well - I am.
Marty
Wednesday, Dec. 5, 2007 - A Day in Bi’lin
Part I: the ride to Bi’lin
We began in Bethlehem where we picked up B and her mother, and started out to Bi’lin via Ramallah in comfortable Volkswagen Service (pronounced ser-veece) taxi that SJ had arranged for us. Bi’lin is Northwest of Bethlehem and Jerusalem, directly west of Ramallah so the fastest way there would be to skirt the western side of Jerusalem and follow one of the fast roads up towards Bi’lin – but this would take us through Israeli territory where SJ and our driver are not permitted. Instead, we drove around the East side of Jerusalem ( precisely the wrong direction) and over secondary roads that snake through the Judean hills, avoiding the vast areas of the many parts of the Maale Adumim settlements, in order to curve around and enter into the heart of Ramallah from the east, drive through the city and out towards the West and Bi’lin. I would guess that this route adds an hour or two to the trip compared to the route if it was permissible to go directly.
The advantage (to us as basically American tourists) is that much of the area through which we drove was incredibly beautiful: large hills that roll into deep valleys with areas of stark, earth-colored panoramas, broken by sections of lush greenery blanketing the slopes. What is amazing are the olive trees that grow even from the rock and earth on otherwise barren hills, defying one’s expectations of what a tree needs to thrive. And there is no way to fully describe the feeling of traveling (excuse the cliché but there’s no other way to say it) the ribbon of highway that snakes through the hills, turning back and forth on itself in order to negotiate the repetitious descent and ascent through the mountains. Needless to say, our driver managed the drive without any appreciable slowing down as he maneuvered around the hairpin curves as if they didn’t exist.
The route took as past and through numerous Palestinian villages including (I believe) Eizariya, which dates from the crusades when the European armies passing through deposited a group of thieves and criminals that had been traveling with them from France (a kind of Australia-like story in the heart of the holy land!). In another village, SJ pointed out a mosque and church next to each other which were constructed cooperatively by Christians and Muslims in the village, and whose mosque’s minaret is the tallest structure in the West Bank.
Ramallah (During the Day)
Ramallah is a real city! The last time i was in Ramallah was in 2001 when we went to meet Yasser Arafat at the compound that he was restricted to by Israeli authorities – and that time we drove directly to the compound without ever seeing any of the city. Today we drove through the heart of the city and realized both how large it is and how vibrant – with all the wonderful things [restaurants, shops of all kinds, high fashion, coffee shops and people) and not so wonderful things (noise, unbelievable traffic, congestion and (too many) people]. I will definitely have to come back here when I have time to explore.
Bi’lin
Finally we arrived in Bi’lin which sits in an area of about 1,800 people, with beautiful, rolling farmland all around it. Not surprisingly there are a number of settlements growing nearby which have already taken a significant amount of this land. Bi’lin has been the subject of an unusual amount of media attention because of weekly demonstrations along the route of the Separation Fence that has gone up between the village and the settlements – and because of a suit filed in Israel’s Supreme Court demanding a return of the land. It has especially received attention in recent weeks because the village actually won its case and the Israeli authorities were ordered to re-route the Fence giving, not all but a significant part of the appropriated farmland back to the village. The problem, of course, is that the court in Israel has no power to implement its rulings, leaving that, in this case, to the military authorities who have been order to reroute the Fence “in a timely fashion.” No one really knows what the military defines as “timely” so there is real doubt as to whether the land will really revert to the village or not. Experience says that the Israeli government will milk the decision for all it’s worth, showing that “the only authentic democracy in the Middle East” has an independent judiciary and then do little or nothing to actually make it happen, hoping that, as usually is the case, people will simply forget about Bi’lin.
I asked EB, one of the local coordinators about what effect the decision has had on the energy around the demonstrations. Large groups of Israelis and Internationals have been coming pretty consistently every Friday for the demonstrations at the Fence, and I asked EB if he thought this would end, or at least decrease, now that people think “We’ve Won!” One response to this concern has been the organization of the Bi’lin Friends of Justice and Freedom Society, with an office (which, just having been opened in a house in the village, currently has a desk, a couple of plastic chairs and a computer) and a web site. The idea is to create a network of people to keep the energy around Bi’lin high as well as to help surrounding villages which are also threatened but do not yet have an organized resistance.
We drove to the site of the demonstrations and, once again were able to see the Kafkaesque way that the Wall/Fence/Barrier snakes around settlements, through farmland and between villages. At this point the Barrier is a stretch of the 50 meters or so wide open land, fence, empty space, electrified fence, security road, empty space. There are plans to construct part of it as the 30 foot concrete wall if the new route (should it happen) goes closer to the settlements. I am including no “commentary” about this – everything that can be said about this horrific “Barrier” has already been said.
The bright spot of this visit to Bi’lin (as is often the case) is it’s children. The data on trauma amongst children throughout the occupied territories is growing, but, at least on the surface, it is amazing how resilient they are. EB’s house (quite lovely) is filled with his children, none cuter (or more aware of her own cute-ness) than Mayad, his daughter who I would guess is five years old or so. In their house she played with us, mugged for our cameras (and took some shots with B’s camera) and later, in the BFJF office walked around giving us snacks. A heartbreaking moment (for me, anyway) came on the hill next to the Fence. As we were standing there observing the path a couple of Israeli soldiers appeared on the crest of the hill in the direction of the settlement. Mayad began running towards her father, not so much frightened as startled, repeating something in Arabic which we were told was “the soldiers are coming, the soldiers are coming.” I’m not sure what was more upsetting, the fact that children like Mayard are subjected to this ugliness, or that she seemed to react as if this was nothing unusual, just a part of her young life. Meanwhile, one of her brothers picked up a small cardboard box, apparently from “rubber” bullet cartridges. What a life!
Ramallah (At night)
The trip back began in a not-so-nice Service taxi which bumped it’s way from Bi’lin to the edge of downtown Ramallah where he dropped us off to change to a vehicle to take us back to Bethlehem. B, her mother and I followed SJ as he weaved rapidly through the early evening crowded streets. Ramallah at night is like a strange combination of Kikar Tzion (Zion Square in downtown Jerusalem), Damascus Gate and Time Square (the old Times Square before the rehab). Brightly lit with neon signs up and down the main streets, a glorious mixture of modern, high-fashion shops, oriental spice shops, fast-food restaurants and businesses selling cheap, gaudy toys, candies and souvenirs. I only wish we could have taken the time to take it all in – our only pause was at an ATM where B’s mother and I both tried – and failed – to get Shekels from the machine. Then we returned to scurrying after SJ. After walking through the center of the city we turned off the main streets into an area that somehow reminded me of leaving Times Square and walking towards Eighth or Ninth Avenue, where we cam to a spot with dozens of Service and regular taxis, and a sea of drivers shouting to us, asking where we wanted to go. SJ just walked past them all (with us in tow) and headed for “Tenth Ave.” where there was only one yellow Service taxi which SJ walked directly to and motioned us to get in. Who this driver was, how he knew to be waiting there and how SJ knew where he would be waiting is a mystery that is beyond my understanding. I have learned that SJ knows people, knows where to find things, and how to maneuver through the morass that is the craziness of this Occupation – and I don’t question him! We drove back through the hills between Ramallah and Bethlehem, most of the time with my eyes closed, partly because I was exhausted but partly because I did not really want to be aware of what it was like to drive these roads and through these mountains in the dark. Before i knew it, we were in front of the Beit Sahour guesthouse and SJ, B and B’s mother were on their way back to Bethlehem.
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