Day Three

I’m not sure how to describe the emotions coursing through me in this moment. All I know is that that is exactly what they are doing, coursing. I can feel them in my skull like a headache that won’t go away. They inhale and exhale with my breath. They make my knees tremble and my cold feet colder. While I’m sure I’m overwhelmed I can’t say quite with what. Is it the frustration at how each piece of information makes the conflict seem a little bit more unsolvable? Is it the fact that my mind so badly wants to be able to pick a side while I know there is no right side to pick? I see Israelis living in fear after hundreds of years of persecution, living with the mindset that it is them against the world, that they must fight first and empathize later. In what feels like the blink of an eye I see Palestinians living in the constant oppression of occupation. I see them desperately trying to hold on to the land that has been in their family for generation all the time knowing their existence on it has been deemed illegal. Most of all, however, I see a loss of hope, a creation of hate, and an unbinding sense of ignorance.

“I hope one day there is no need for the existence of an Israeli state.” were the words of our Canadian born, Israeli guide, David with the implication that, for now, a Jewish state is deserved and necessary. He uttered them in that matter of fact way that made me certain he believed them. Do the Jews have the right to a solely Jewish state? If so what does this mean for the hundreds of thousands of Palestinians who are currently living has half-rate citizens? They have been separated from their families by a concrete wall twice the size of that which separated the Germans in Berlin. They are forced to abandon land, lose jobs, leave schools because a 15 minute commute suddenly turned into an hour and half. “Welcome to apartheid” they graffiti on that concrete that so definitively changed their lives.

Here I am experiencing this with the certainty that lives are being lost and rights are being denied. Here I am on my oversized and over-comfortable tour bus looking down at the people whose suffering I can’t even begin to understand. I am privileged in ways beyond my comprehension and as I look through that glass and look into the curious eyes staring back at me I wonder what I am doing here. Not that I’m too uncomfortable or too out of place or too overwhelmed. I am simply wondering what I am going to do about it. And as I sit and stare I am brought back to my previous trips to Bangladesh. I may be four years older and innumerable experiences wiser than when I went on those trips but I am just as helpless. More than anything I saw suffering. I saw children maimed on the street in Bangladesh that I knew had been purposefully harmed so that they would make more money begging for the sick adults who “cared” for them. Images like these, though four years old now, will never be far from right behind my eyes. My third day attempting to understand the Israel/Palestine conflict by witnessing it first hand and I know this trip will be the same. What will I do for them? How can I help? Most importantly where can I find hope?

We woke up this morning and got on our bus to a kibbutz called Ramat Hashofet, where we had a lecture/discussion with an Israeli originally from Canada (This is where we’re staying tonight and tomorrow night). This was the first exposure we really had to any Israeli issues, delivered from a fairly left-wing point of view. We went through a brief history of the founding of Israel, especially the various waves of immigrations, or Aliyahs. One of the first groups to make Aliyah to Israel was the German Jews, who quickly established themselves as the “upper class, cultured” citizens, using Westernization as an identifier. All subsequent groups to come to Israel, whether or not they acted with Western manners, if they were racially different, were treated as lower class. Early on, this hit such an extreme level that many immigrant Jewish children (especially Arabs or Asians) were stripped of their identity–sent to schools where they were only to speak in Hebrew and forget their own traditions and cultures, despite the fact that they were also Jewish. This was similar in almost every way to the Americanization of Native American children by the missionaries in the early 1800’s.

One place we stopped today on our way back from lunch in Barta’a, which is an Arab town through which the Green Line passes, was a point from which you could see both the Mediterranean and the West Bank at the same time. From that perspective, it’s easy to see why Israel can feel a bit nervous, having such a narrow country and surrounded by hostile countries. There we saw a drawing of Handala (google it) scratched into stone.

The major political party with all the clout is called the Shas; these are the so-called “ultra-Orthodox” Jews, who are sought out by other parties of the Parliament to form coalitions. For the most part, the Shas will back most law proposals set forth by the smaller party in these coalitions on the condition that there be special treatment of the ultra-Orthodox Jews in the state. The main example here is that their children do not have to serve in the army like everyone else if they are engaged in heavy religious studies. The Shas established power early on by going village by village and donating money to build schools and help communities. In return, they gained loyalty from the people and have maintained it ever since.

The problems within Israel are not well publicized. One of the biggest problems they face is not external, but internal; it is a question of identity. The problem here boils down to two main questions: Are Jews defined as a people or a religion? and Should Israel be run with a separation of church and state? Sam’s blog highlighted the question of people or religion and the 1/8th rule that if someone is 1/8 Jewish, then they can be a citizen of Israel, but this leads to the attraction of some people who are simply looking for a place to live; in fact, many completely secular people qualify under the 1/8th rule and celebrate Christmas! The early Zionist movement was even unclear about this question, and it is a major one if Israel is to move forward effectively. The fact that Israel faces such a question about its very identity reminds us how young of a country it is. I need to constantly remind myself of that; it’s a strange concept when considering also what huge impact its politics and actions have on the lives of so many people and other countries’ foreign policy. The next question arises from the first. As a country established as a Jewish State, it is understandable that they would have laws according to the Jewish faith, and have a political system appropriate to such circumstances. This is a country established for specific purposes, and if you don’t like it, you can leave. However, the Christians, Muslims and secular Jews can feel infringed upon by these laws. As a relatively minor example, many people who live here who would otherwise eat shellfish have never done so because those products are not Kosher and therefore are not imported or caught from the Mediterranean. This is home to many people, and the imposition of laws based on a faith other than their own is certainly oppression.

Now that I’ve had the opportunity to think about part of the Israeli side, I am starting to think a one state solution is best, because there are people here who are clearly not Zionists or even Jewish and this is their home also. This will take significant sacrifice from the Israeli politicians (consisting mostly of the conservative Shas), and is likely to never happen.

Very significant afterthought: Why does no one consider the “pure” Zionists who believe that there won’t be a true Jewish state until the coming of the Messiah? The bible speaks of Zion and the coming of the Messiah as two things that come hand-in-hand.

Also, in Jerusalem, I noticed that there was an abundance of street cats, so starting on our first full day, when we actually went out for the first time, I started a cat count. Yesterday was 27. Today was 12. The difference was city vs. countryside.

-Ari

My biggest surprise when we arrived in Tel Aviv was how familiar it felt. Aside from the Middle Eastern style music playing on the radio and the Hebrew/Arabic/English road signs I felt as though I could have flown into southern California. As we continued to an Israeli friend’s house for dinner, my sheltered feeling didn’t alleviate. Their pronunciation of humus with the stereotypical throat sound was one of the few indication that we had left the United States and entered such a prominent region. As the night continued in conversation about the conflict things continued on a hypothetical and philosophical level. I could hear that they were experiencing intense conflict and had experienced great tragedy and violence in their lives yet I could not see it.

The next morning, as we toured the Old City in Jerusalem, I couldn’t shake of the feeling that I was a mere tourist avoiding the true purpose of the trip. While the buildings were beautiful and the history so wonderfully rich, the fact that we were in Israel had yet to sink in. That is until the moment I saw the Palestinian neighborhood. I was immediately met with dilapidated houses, hanging laundry, and piles upon piles of trash. Our guide told us the trash had accumulated in every corner because the Israeli government did not provide trash services to the Palestinians. The conflict continued to become a reality for me when we saw the wall up close for the first time. On it was graffiti that said, among other things, “When ignorance reigns, lives are lost” and “Welcome to apartheid”. Seeing these strong and charged words in black and white solidified for me the oppression and injustice the Palestinian people are living with daily. I also realized an Israeli teenager could easily ignore the conflict and occupation now that the wall has been constructed and the “acts of terror” have decreased significantly. A Palestinian teenager, however, lives in constant reminder that they are living are living in an occupation, that they are unwanted by many and unjustly hated by some. I am left with the feeling that as we heard during our discussion on the first night…”Life is complicated in this region.” 

-Cherylyn