March 16, 2018
The roosters of Palestine make themselves heard at 3 a.m.
Somewhat later each day, still early morning, I hear the Islamic Call to Prayer.
The cathedrals and mosques, the tombs and caves and wells, and all the old and ancient structures – beautiful and impressive in their magnitude, filled with history and meaning.
The places of Jesus: the (possible) site of His birth, the old road between Jerusalem and Jericho, the way of the cross, the Jordan River – have moved me forward in my faith: there really was a man named Jesus who lived and died here, and now I am walking on his paths – literally!
Jesus showed us how to live – in our present. This, to me, means I must learn about this land – this land of conflict, fear and occupation. For this I have come to Israel/Palestine. And now, having seen The Wall, the checkpoints, the strings of barbed-wire; and learned about the huge percentage of the West Bank – the land which was supposed to be for the Palestinians, but now taken by Israel for military training and for the development of more and more settlements (each inhabited by tens of thousands of ultra-right-wing and Orthodox Jews), the forced removal of Palestinians, the focus on and meaning of personal identity (based on ethnicity, religion, nationality, place of residence) which determines where a person can go, which highways and streets s/he can use, different colors of vehicle license plates indicating the owner’s identity and thus his/her privileges or restrictions – seeing and experiencing all of this, and the people living in the midst of this violence engender outrage in me.
Then comes the pain. We meet Maya, a young, culturally Jewish, American woman who is married to a Palestinian man; they have a 4-month old son named in honor of his father’s cousin who was shot and killed by Israeli military as he walked down the steps of the 5-star hotel where he was employed. Maya and family live in a refugee camp and experience endless obstacles to their movements as they try to plan and live a normal life.
Rami Elhanan, Joan Deming, Usama Nicola, George Sa’adeh
We heard the stories of two fathers, members of the Bereaved Families Forum, who each lost a daughter in her early teen years to the violence. Rami Elhanan, an Israeli Jew, and George Sa’adeh, a Palestinian Christian, have found some comfort and indeed brotherhood in their commitments to rise above revenge and to share their stories and pain. They, and others in their organization of over 600 bereaved family members, reach out to each family who lose a loved family member, inviting those newly experiencing this suffering to join them. Rami and George, and their fellow members, demonstrate to all who will listen how to talk with “the other,” how to build bridges through listening, respecting, and trying to understand.
The night following our discussion meeting with these men, I have a nightmare full of anger and pain.
Now, the matter of hope. Is it possible to have hope for peace in this Holy Land? Sometimes I say Yes – like when we met and heard the vibrant, intense, thoughtful woman, Dalia Landau. She is one of the two protagonists in the book written by Sandy Tolan, The Lemon Tree (I recommend it). Dalia, an Israeli Jew since her infancy, told us of her current thinking about how peace might come. She has changed her opinion and analysis over the decades because she has continued to listen to “the other”. That is reason for hope. As were the bereaved parents.
Then we go to the office of the UN-OCHA for a lengthy and detailed briefing on the humanitarian effects of the occupation. We hear about how intractable the political situation seems to be; and that this humanitarian crisis is totally man-made and so could be solved by people. But the international community has failed the Palestinian people.
Then we hear from Ivan Karakashian, who is the primary advocacy person at Defense for Children International – Palestine, about the terribly oppressive and torturous methods used to convict and imprison the teenagers who throw stones or do just about anything expressing their frustrations. Over 60% of Palestinian male teens have been convicted of a crime. I lose hope.
But we have now arrived in Ibillin, a Palestinian town in northern Israel, the site of the Mar Elias Educational Institutions. MEEI is a large and thriving school serving Israeli Moslem, Christian and Druse children (Jewish children welcome but none now attending). Thousands are being educated in one of the best schools in all of Israel – and hope returns.
Sunset over Haifa from the Mar Elias Schools in Ibillin
~ Kathy Murphy