Zachary Bell
University of Pennsylvania
On the morning of June 11, our group left Jordan for the Allenby Bridge crossing into Israel. While this was supposed to be a minor portion of the day, it turned into a rather significant event. Despite a Jordanian tour guide who helped move us up to the front of the queue in Jordan, it took well over an hour to get to leave Jordan. After passing through the demilitarized zone, we got dropped off at the Israeli checkpoint. We had arranged a “VIP” guide, Odessa, to speed us through, and I couldn’t help but feel uncomfortably American as we cut the long line of Palestinians waiting in line for their turn to cross. In the second part of the Israeli checkpoint, our bags were screened, and despite nothing unusual about his bags, Mak (who is an Indian Muslim) was asked to stay behind for questioning. Dr. David stayed behind with him, and reported that he was asked most of the questions on behalf of Mak, assuring the Israeli soldiers of his legitimate reasons for traveling to Israel. At the third part of the checkpoint, our passports were checked and we were all questioned on our itinerary in Israel. The variety in questioning was a bit shocking – several students were asked one or two questions and were approved in just a few minutes, while others (like Mak) underwent much lengthier interviews. In the end, Mak, Winston (also Muslim), and myself (a Jew), were asked to fill out extra paperwork and had to wait in a separate room. While we all waited (for what came to over an hour), it was partially comical, and partially distressing that it was a surprise that I was chosen, while we all expected Mak and Winston to be questioned more thoroughly. While none of us are totally comfortable with this sort of profiling, it forced us to enter Israel fully aware of how security may trump civil rights in some cases in the country we were entering.
We were picked up at Allenby Bridge from Rabbi Ron Kronish, a reform rabbi who lives in Jerusalem. During the bus ride, Rabbi Kronish gave us an introduction to Israel, and importantly explained the notion of a “dual narrative,” where the history and current situation between the Palestinians and Israelis has two stories, with different implications, different accusations, and even different facts.
After settling in at the hotel, we went to Friday night services at a reform synagogue in Jerusalem, Kehilat Kol HaNeshama. Rabbi Kronish gave a brief overview of the reform movement, as a response to the orthodox movement, which then caused the outgrowth of the conservative movement as a middle ground response. He explained that it is “reform” and not “reformed,” because it is constantly in a state of change, interpretation, and adaptation to fit in the context of a changing world. The ambience of the synagogue was warm and inviting. Everyone seemed to like the beautiful singing (which was incorporated in almost every prayer) and the “guided meditation” by the Rabbi to help us reflect upon the week. For me, it was very comforting to know the prayers and participate fully, because after two weeks of understanding other cultures, it made me feel at home even in a foreign land. I was surprised by my sense of pride in reciting the prayers, which probably came from feelings that I was finally getting to share my culture after hearing the other students explain Christianity and Islam throughout Dubai and Jordan. As the service was coming to a close, the rabbi welcomed all the “guests” to the service, which turned out to be a variety of groups from around the world. I had never seen a congregation so welcoming and diverse, while still so prideful and intimate.
We ended the night with a Shabbat dinner at Rabbi Krosnish’s house in Jerusalem. Rabbi Kronish is the head of an intercultural group (ICCI), and so the dinner included several local Jewish Israelis and Palestinians. It was interesting to be in the same social scene with people like Hani, a Palestinian from Jerusalem who participated in ICCI and was working as a performer in a theater group, and Anat, a Jewish Israeli who was studying Arabic in University. The night had special meaning for me, since the Kronish’s daughter was a director for me at my Jewish summer camp growing up, and so I was able to get a glimpse of the background of an American Jewish leader. The interaction of this diverse group was hopeful, but also spurred questions about what defines identity in this region – are you a Jew, a Palestinian, or a Jerusalem citizen?
The following morning, we were given a tour of the Old City of Jerusalem, which included a visit to the Church of Assumption, Church of the Holy Sepulcher, the Temple Mount (for the Muslim students), the Western Wall, and an organization called the Sisters of Zion. The historical sites added to the awesome nature of Jerusalem and deepened our appreciation for the religious and historical significance of the city for multiple groups. However, to me, the Sisters of Zion presented an equally enlightening experience. The Sisters of Zion is a group of nuns from the Catholic church who dedicate their work to fighting anti-Jewish interpretation of the Christian Scriptures, as part of an acknowledgement of the role of the Catholic Church in condoning or being used as justification for anti-Semitism in the past. The Sisters train preachers to understand the scriptures in a more tolerant manner. It was inspiring to hear from Sister Trudy as she spoke with sincerity and conviction for her mission, when it contradicted all my stereotypes of the Catholic Church. It also contradicted the notion that cultural understanding came through novel or futuristic methods, when this group was using interpretation of Scripture, disseminated through the hierarchy of the Catholic Church to promote tolerance.
In the afternoon we crossed the border into the West Bank en route to Bethlehem. Bethlehem is host to the Church of the Nativity, which had a floor mosaic dating back over 1500 years, and a cave beneath the church where Jesus is believed to have been born.
Afterwards, we went to the Arab Educational Institute, a forum for Palestinians in Bethlehem and the West Bank to engage in intercultural dialogue. The Palestinians included recent graduates of university and other people in their twenties. We quickly jumped into conversation about how the Palestinians and Arab world view U.S. foreign policy, what life is like with the Wall (which separates the West Bank from the rest of Israel), and how Israel should be dealing with Hamas in Gaza. There were a variety of viewpoints and personalities. At one point, one of the Palestinian youth was explaining that while the Palestinians (especially Hamas) did attack Israel, each action was a reaction to something that Israel did. In this light, he also explained that, to him, suicide bombing was more of a political statement than a true attack. On this reaction-perpetuation point, I asked what negative move Hamas was reacting to when they fired 10,000 rockets after Israel disengaged (moving out its settlers) from Gaza in 2005, an act which I perceived as one that offered a clean beginning. He responded that Israel still had a siege on Gaza and that Israel never really left, which to him provoked the rockets. Alternatively, I spoke with another Palestinian man who emphasized the “human rights perspective,” and spoke more about the conditions in the West Bank and Gaza, and how it was imperative that they be improved. He (and others) explained that 64% of Palestinians in the West Bank live below the poverty line, that it is difficult to travel to Jerusalem (which many of them depended on for work before the Wall was erected) and most other countries, and that harassment and embarrassment by Israeli soldiers was commonplace. This man explained that he went to university in Jerusalem, and that one Israeli soldier would not allow him to enter unless he admitted that he was a homosexual (which he was not). Our tour guide through the Church of the Nativity (who worked with this group) was a Dutch man with a Palestinian wife, and he explained that a female Israeli soldier forced his seven-year-old daughter to strip down naked at one checkpoint. It was hard to know how to react. In the end I felt like even though I could certainly understand why these youth had these opinions, it was still disappointing that even the more open-minded among them could only go as far as frame the conflict in terms of human rights, but not once did any of them seem to acknowledge that Israel’s moves were simply similar reactions to actions of the Palestinians, and that Israel had legitimate security concerns. For example, there was a common view that Israel erected the Wall as a way to cut off economic and educational resources from the Palestinians to make their life harder, claiming that Wall had little to do with security. This failure to take the 1,000 Israeli deaths from the second intifada into account the same way they take the hardships and deaths of Palestinians into account was indicative of the mental roadblock to true mutual understanding. Additionally, the Education Institute, which was created for the purpose of intercultural dialogue, hung posters of locks on doors (symbols for the locks on the homes of the Palestinians that they would some day come back to) and maps of Palestine that had no acknowledgement of Israel. Given that a center dedicated to mutual understanding seemed to fall so short was discouraging. However, these youth all seemed like reasonable people, little different from us, who were just reacting to a life of hardship that could all be used as evidence for blaming Israel. In preparing to speak with Israelis the following day, I wanted to understand how Israel could allow the individual harassments by soldiers to persist, and get a better understanding of what Israel was doing to foster economic and political development in the West Bank. As we would soon see, the grand disparity between the Israelis’ description of life in the West Bank and the treatment by Israeli soldiers would make us start to understand Rabbi Kronish’s point that the Middle East is a region of “dual narratives” for the same story.
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