Report 1

Beyond the Headlines: Everyday Realities and the Struggle for Reconciliation

Despite ongoing attacks in Gaza, northern Israel, and all of Lebanon, the Interfaith Peace-Builders delegation entered Israel without incident on Monday morning.  Since that time IFPB staff have talked with members of the delegation on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday.  They are doing well, continuing with a full itinerary, and looking forward to continuing with a productive experience.

Even while the headlines and the tragic events draw our attention to the current violence, attacks, and destruction, the delegation report below reminds us of some of the everyday realities of Israelis and Palestinians even when the cameras aren’t rolling.

Monday, July 17

Entering Israel: First Impressions of the Airport and Jerusalem

Customs turned out to be a breeze… maybe too much of a breeze.  The airport was so quiet it almost felt eerie.  One of our leaders said it usually takes at least one and a half hours in line to arrive at the customs desk.  But now the maze of ropes was empty.  A few members of our group were questioned by a stern Israeli woman.  One woman, young and blonde, was questioned by three Israeli security agents, all increasingly intimidating.  I walked up, said “Hello, how are you?” to a silent and stoic passport agent, who, after looking at my passport for about two minutes slammed her stamp and handed me my documents.  I was almost disappointed of the uneventfulness of it all.

We boarded a bus and headed to Jerusalem, en route to St. George’s Cathedral Guesthouse.  St. George is the seat of the Anglican Diocese in East Jerusalem, which is the Palestinian side of Jerusalem.  It is a beautiful walled complex with a cathedral, two guest houses and lovely garden.  Our accommodations are quaint and comfortable. 

Please forgive the coming pun and the potty talk, but a clue as to the double standard applied between Israeli and Palestinian areas, that no toilets in Palestinian areas can accept toilet paper.  The infrastructure is severely neglected even though East Jerusalem is within the municipality of Jerusalem which Israel claims.  The pipes can’t handle much water as they are very old, that is, if there was even enough water to be had—Israelis consume eight times more water than Palestinians and accordingly, water is rationed to the Palestinians.  We are being very conscious not to abuse these resources.

We then took a tour of the Mt. of Olives and a Palestinian neighborhood of Jerusalem called A-Tur.  We also looked over Jerusalem from Mount Scopus, the site of Hebrew University.  I saw the Haram al-Sharif/Dome of the Rock/Temple Mount for the first time and I couldn’t believe I was seeing it with my own eyes.

During the tour we learned of the segregation practiced in designing rules for the road.  Only cars with yellow license plates can drive in Jerusalem and the rest of Israel.  To get yellow plates you need to be Israeli, or be a Palestinian who lives in Jerusalem.  A Palestinian who lives in Jerusalem is someone who holds a title to a home within the borders of Jerusalem as of 1967.  Several subsequent Israeli government expansions of Jerusalem have enlarged the municipal boundaries of Jerusalem, but if Palestinian homes lie in this expanded area, residents don’t qualify for the status as Jerusalem residents, and thus don’t get yellow license plates.  Home titles are only respected by Israel if they had been transferred from Jordan or Britain when the territory was ruled by the respective countries.  Many Palestinians can’t prove to the satisfaction of Israel that they own their home, which also makes them vulnerable to home demolitions or seizure, which will be discussed later.  There are many roads on which Palestinians are not allowed to drive.

Tuesday, July 18

Understanding East and West:  A Political Tour of Jerusalem

Our first morning in Jerusalem was an experience that is difficult to put into words. We met with Jimmy, a guide for the Israeli Committee Against Home Demolitions (ICAHD). While most of us were familiar with the general injustice of the partition and occupation, none of us were prepared for what we saw.

Our tour had five stops: the first involved visiting West Jerusalem to compare the infrastructure between West and East Jerusalem. West Jerusalem is a modern Israeli city; although East Jerusalem is the center of the Palestinian economy, it does not have the same infrastructure. Palestinians are a minority within Jerusalem and we learned that they pay 33% of the taxes (proportional to their demographic percentage), yet 67% live under the poverty line.  Their taxes help support the infrastructure of Jerusalem, but East Jerusalem residents receive minimal services for that money: sporadic trash pick-up and a separate, and more fragile, sewage system. Ultimately, Palestinians receive no more than 11% of the services provided by any Jerusalem municipal department.

Our second stop was in Ras al-Amud, a Palestinian neighborhood half way up the Mount of Olives. There we saw an Israeli Jewish settlement called Ma’ale Zeitim that was built on land that had been owned by Jews prior to 1948. Jimmy pointed out how the building was six stories high---higher than Palestinian homes in East Jerusalem are allowed to be. He also pointed out that several organizations are trying to create a ring of connected Jewish settlements on the eastern side of Jerusalem so that there is no space for Palestinian expansion.  Ma’ale Zeitim is part of this ring.

Our third stop was the Wall/security barrier/fence* that divides and economically crushes Palestinian villages. The original justification for the building of the wall was ‘security’, but several Israeli officials now publicly talk about the wall as a new border. 10% of the West Bank will be confiscated by Israel under this plan.

Our fourth stop on the tour was a demolished house. Israeli demolition of Palestinian homes is a relatively common practice. Although a small number of home demolitions are carried out to punish Palestinian militants by destroying their families’ houses, the majority of home demolitions result from Palestinians lacking a building permit. These permits, however, are nearly impossible to obtain due to the lack of zoning in many Palestinian areas of Jerusalem.  Even if all of the stringent conditions are met, the cost of $22,000 is prohibitive for many Palestinians.

Our fifth and final stop was an Israeli Jewish settlement in the West Bank—Ma’ale Adumim. We accessed this settlement via a ‘bypass road’ on which all can drive except for Palestinians. The settlement may have been the biggest shock of all. After seeing the crumbling infrastructure and poverty of some East Jerusalem neighborhoods, the starkness of the ‘security wall’ and the demolished Palestinian home (all in areas populated by Palestinians who are citizens of Jerusalem and pay full taxes), we came upon a large, sprawling ‘suburb’/’bedroom community’, chock full of Mediterranean style houses, green grass (in the desert), parks and shopping malls—all subsidized by the Israeli government. All illegal according to international law. All nearly impossible to evacuate. The Wall blended in with the scenery on the Israeli side so as not to confront Israelis driving by with the reality of the situation.

Jimmy said we had seen all the elements of the Israeli occupation in our tour: the wall, settlements, a bypass road, home demolitions and checkpoints (we weren’t stopped at the one we went through because we were clearly not Palestinian).

Many of us came away from this tour with the conclusion that with these settlements, walls, and checkpoints a Palestinian state will not be viable since the economic base—East Jerusalem—does not have room to develop. A two state solution is thus improbable, or even impossible. It was a sobering morning.

--Nicole Pelletier

*There are a variety of terms, all partially accurate and all politically significant, used to describe the wall/fence/barrier that Israel is constructing in the West Bank.  Interfaith Peace-Builders uses the term “the wall,” following the example of the International Court of Justice.

Speaking to the Heart:  Sabeel

Sometimes—rare and precious times—you encounter someone who speaks to your heart:  directly, without pretense or holding back, without the condition or caution of:  “I must not come on too strong or risk offending or preaching.”  Someone who touches you, gives you strength and hope, and sometimes that touch sooths like balm, and sometimes that touch burns like fire, and sometimes it is both. Nora Carmi of Sabeel is such a person, and our delegation was privileged to spend an inspiring, and, for some of us, shattering hour and a half with her on our first full day in Jerusalem.

Sabeel is an organization of Christian Palestinians committed to “Liberation Theology.”   Nora is a Jerusalemite, a refugee in her own land.  The shifting, tearing, and wrenching of borders has robbed her and her family of their childhood home in West Jerusalem.  A mother and a grandmother, the wars and troubles of this land have brought Nora pain, loss, and fear.  Yet she does not lose her faith and her commitment to the true meaning of Jesus’ life and message.  “Jesus was a Palestinian Jew who lived under Roman occupation,” Nora explained us.  As we all know, faced with this situation, Jesus did not turn to hatred of his oppressors, nor to fomenting violent rebellion—in contrast, he taught love, acceptance, and nonviolence.   The people of Sabeel—the Arabic word means “the way,” and also “source of life-giving water”—confront the severe challenges of life in Palestine today by emulating the mission and life of Jesus.  Sabeel does this by embracing nonviolence, including supporting and collaborating with nonviolent activist groups of all three Abrahamic faiths in Israel and Palestine, creating and disseminating educational materials, organizing local and international conferences, and working with youth.

Nora said to us:  “We do not have the right to destroy this land.”  She challenged us with the question:  “How do we bring justice to this country of Muslims, Jews and Christians?”  I (the grandson of a 5th generation Palestinian Jew) asked Nora if she thought that the reality of a Jewish State had led to injustice.  She paused and answered simply, "Yes."  She said that for this reason, Sabeel supports the ideal of a one-state solution, even though she is not optimistic about this coming to pass.  Despite this pessimism, Nora has faith and is philosophical:  empires do not last, she pointed out.  It was important for me to ask my question.  It is a question I have been asking myself for a long time.  I believe that we all, especially internationals of all faiths, have to have the courage to ask.

I did not feel that Nora’s answer was anti-Israel, and certainly not anti-Semitic.  It came from love of the peoples of the land, just as my question came from my own concern and sorrow for my people and for all the peoples of this land.  Nora said, “I feel sorrow and compassion for the Jews of Israel, as I do for all of us suffering through this particular period of history in this land.”  Her statement presaged, for me, what we would hear several hours later from Rami Elhanan of Bereaved Parents Circle, a man devoted to nonviolence and to mutual understanding between the warring peoples, who asked:  what is Jewish about systematically humiliating and dominating a people over a period of 35 years?  There is nothing Jewish about this, he said.

We told Nora we would take her message, bring it back to our government, our loved ones, and our lives.  After our visit, I turned to Yolande, my fellow delegate, and said:  “I would stand with this woman.”  Yolande looked at me and we both knew what I meant.  Nora had shown us, reminded us, of how to Stand Firm—how to know yourself and your faith, so surely and with such conviction, clarity, commitment and love, that nothing can knock you down—nothing from outside yourself, and nothing from inside yourself.  We walked out into the searing brightness of Jerusalem, the stone buildings glowing in the afternoon sun.  We were strengthened, we were weeping, we carried within us, will always carry within us, the love and the strength we had found in that room today.

--Mark Braverman

Transforming Loss: Bereaved Parents Circle

His eyes were deep.  His gaze was focused. His voice was strong and clear.  As he sat at the head of our small circle, he shared the kind of loss that few of us can imagine.  About eight years ago, Rami lost his 14-year old daughter to a suicide bomb on the urban streets of Jerusalem.  Like all such attacks, it caused a sudden and unannounced departure from an otherwise “normal” life led in Israel.

Rami is no stranger to violence.  He served in the Israeli army and had lost friends to war.  But the loss of his daughter, by his account, was different.  While war had hardened him and left him feeling disillusioned, the loss of his daughter left him “wondering how to get out of the bed in the morning” to go on living.

After some time had passed, Rami ran across a man—Yitzhak Frankenthal—who changed his prospective about war, violence, and life.  He engaged in conversation with another person who had also suffered the loss of a child, as so many people in this region of the world have.  Yitzhak spoke to Rami about looking forward and about reconciling old enemies.  At first, Rami was astonished and appalled at the mere suggestion.   But as time passed, he found himself engaged in conversations with others about peace.

The Bereaved Families Circle regularly joins Palestinians and Israelis who share the bond of tragic loss together.  Their dialogue allows each person to feel the other’s pain.  And out of their mutual empathy they have begun to take extraordinary steps toward getting others to see the futility of war.

Our group sat mesmerized as Rami spoke about meeting the relative of a suicide bomber who introduced himself at a meeting in the Palestinian village of al-Khader.  After the speech, Rami was shaking the hands of people who had attended the meeting.  Someone approached and told Rami “you wouldn’t want to shake my hand if you knew what I did.”  Rami replied, “What could you have done that I wouldn’t shake your hand?”  When the man replied that his brother had been a suicide bomber, Rami continued, saying “you came to my talk, you listened with an open heart,” and the two men shook hands.  While the meeting was awkward at first, they two men quickly agreed that their mutual desire for peace was one which transformed not only themselves, but their relationship also offered an opportunity for others to be transformed as well.

For example, their children attended summer camp together.  And the two men regularly engage Jewish and Palestinian high school students in conversations about peace and the prospect of living together harmoniously. 

This transformation will not occur overnight.  But such apparent strides towards ending violence between old rivals is more than promising—it exemplifies much needed love and hope for all humankind.  

-- Diane Ford Jones