March 25 - April 8, 2006

Report 1: Bridges, Walls, & Checkpoints: Vignettes

March 27-28

Jordan

I saw a shepherd
tending his sheep,
a dozen or so,
thick with wool and ready for shearing;
and he made me think
of the days to come.
The sheep watched the shepherd as they grazed in the median
of the highway from the airport to Amman,
but I saw the shepherd looking at the cars
and thinking.

-- Richard Gale

The Bridge

The delegation crossed the Allenby Bridge from Jordan to Israel/Palestine on Tuesday, March 28  – Israeli election day.  Most of the group made it through security with no problems; one member required 2 1/2 hours for security clearance.

A pimply kid with wrap-around Oakley sunglasses, in fatigues, awkwardly carrying his M16, standing on the bridge between Israel and Jordan, was my first experience of the Israeli army. When we arrived at the border station, a girl with dyed-blond dreads, jean jacket, long skirt, and 3-inch-heel boots came and asked who we were, were there any Muslims among us, and how we knew each other. Later we presented our passports to a couple of similarly young girls, this time in military uniforms.

For the next several hours we watched friends of the border guards (i.e. friends of the armed 18-year-olds determining the fate of all who enter Israel) waltz in and wander back and forth through the various security gates; holding hands and giggling with the (working) guards and yelling across the hall to each other; some sauntering around sipping drinks. A couple of non-uniformed men nonchalantly wandered around with M16s.

At the beginning of the process, a bald man with a bright yellow shirt asked us to move on to the next security area, but we explained that we were waiting for our group; hours later, he reappeared and repeated his request – now less of a request – although there was no one there and nothing had changed. We moved. In the next security area, we found girls on one side, boys on the other, looking just like a bunch of high school kids hanging out and laughing. Except, of course, they were guarding the country's border, and some had guns.

-- John Alex

Myths and Facts: Past, Present and Future

After finally getting through the border crossing we met our driver and guide, who first took us to see some sites of religious and historical significance on the Mount of Olives. The next afternoon we met with Jeff Halper of the Israeli Committee against House Demolitions (ICAHD). 

We've been in Jerusalem for almost twenty-four hours. Yesterday we went to
see the Mount of Olives, where Jesus reputedly stepped off to heaven.  It was interesting the manner in which our guide Said talked about myth as fact. Author Karen Armstrong reminds us that "stories about Jerusalem should not be dismissed because they are 'only' myths: they are important precisely because they are myths." (I purchased her book, A History of Jerusalem, last night, because I'm so poorly versed in religious history and this city rests on dense layers of it.)

I think about the occupation as a human rights issue, and back my position with talk about the Fourth Geneva Convention and the fact that U.S. taxpayers in effect fund the Israeli occupation. Jeff Halper, who works with the Israeli Committee Against Home Demolitions, encouraged us to "reframe" the issue – pointing out that what is happening here is not about Israeli security, but about occupation.

I learned many facts today that will probably (surely) help me as I try to
speak with some authority upon my return about the Kafka-esque conditions here, but the basic fact remains: The whole thing – the occupation's success or failure – seems hopeless to me today. Halper spoke about the need for Israelis to "manage" the conflict because they no longer believe they can resolve it. Talk about peace in this nation is utter hypocrisy at the present time. Both Israelis and Palestinians are losing, and will surely lose more. The wall is making its way into existence at an alarming rate. In 2002 it was simply a bad idea; Today it snakes all over the West Bank.

– Anne Miller

Wall ‘Humor’ and Reality

In these first days, we have traveled in and around Jerusalem.  We took a settlement tour with Jimmy Johnson of ICAHD and saw the Wall in several other places as well.  Checkpoints and the Wall have hindered and lengthened our travel –  for us a two-day experience at this point, for Palestinians a lifetime experience.

How long does it take to make a five-minute trip across the street? Forty-five minutes. Where in the world do you have to go north to go south? No, not the South Pole: Palestine.

These are some of the jokes that Palestinians make about themselves and the growing restrictions on their movement; self deprecating humor that masks the deep frustration these people feel from this imposed predicament.

The Israeli-built wall, upright slabs of dreary, lifeless cement standing side to side, stretches across the landscape, severing lives and livelihoods as it draws new lines on the map.

A little village perched on a hill lies deserted because its sole access road is bisected by the Wall. A farmer loses his fields because he “abandoned” them, prevented from reaching them by checkpoints and the Wall. Homes are torn down in order to make way for a three hundred meter “security” perimeter on both sides of the Wall. Along the hills and valleys, the Wall cuts back and forth, this way and that, like a stone snake coiled around its prey, constricting, asphyxiating, unrelenting.

One last joke we’ve heard: the Palestinians say they only need two gears in their cars; if they were to drive fast enough to shift into a third gear they would most likely crash into a Wall.

-- Richard Gale

Houses: Demolitions and Settlements

While on the tour with Jimmy Johnson of ICAHD, we saw the contrast between several Palestinian residential areas that have had houses demolished by the Israeli authorities – for lack of a building permit.  We also drove through the biggest Israeli settlement in the West Bank.

The evil can be so banal here. Our first stop on the second morning brought us to the site of a Palestinian home demolition in East Jerusalem. The land, which had been owned by Palestinians, had come under question. The state had appropriated it right into the hands of an ideological settler, who will build homes and encourage other Jews to move in.

The demolitions and evictions seem to happen without notice. The eyes of the international community are certainly shut. If the rubble and gaping hole in East Jerusalem hadn't been explained to us, I never would have known.

After following a section of the Wall through East Jerusalem we arrived at a
settlement just outside of Jerusalem called Ma’ale Adumim. Immaculately
kept, lots of flowers, no visible military presence, with a peace library
and solar panels on roofs! The place reminded me of some utopia I've seen
on the screen in Pleasantville or a Disney World community. However, not
only are these settlements on Palestinian land environmentally and
economically unsustainable, they are morally unsustainable as well.

I don't feel a lot of hope about the situation, all things considered. The
West Bank – Palestinian land – is being cut up, shot up, dug up and built
up by Israel. Palestinians have no power, no voice, and heavily restricted mobility. How do we fully understand the implications of such differentials of power? And the Israelis, while seemingly in control, are not … and suffer from the occupation as well.

-- Anne Miller

Tents

Another reaction to the sight of demolished houses … at Anata, a Palestinian village northeast of Jerusalem.

Friendly smiling children followed us as we looked at the rubble of a few demolished homes, clamoring to have their pictures taken with us, and hoping to borrow our cameras to take pictures of us.  On the porch of an intact village, house a group of women watched us.

One of the women talked to us about the demolition of her home a stone’s throw away.  She had watched as the soldiers had demolished it. The rubble still had remnants of furniture, toys, kitchenware – and in what was once a living room, a sofa still intact.

Her home now, a tent down the way. 

Her neighborhood - a stretch of shacks, rubble, trash, and demolished homes.  Neighboring Bedouin homes, which used to be fabric tents, are now made of corrugated tin roofs, siding, and cardboard. Fabric tents are too costly and time consuming to make; many Bedouins now live in black plastic tents.

Will she build again?  Yes, of course, even though the demolition may well be repeated.

-- Niki McCuistion

Walls of Fear

On Wednesday night we met with Rami Elhanan, a member of the Israeli-Palestinian Bereaved Families’ Forum for Peace. This organization is a group of Israelis and Palestinians who have lost family members to terror, violence, and war. He told us of the many Families’ Forum activities to increase understanding between Israelis and Palestinians – and work towards peace.

Walls take many forms in Israel and Palestine. I could point to the massive structure dubbed by some the “Separation Barrier,” or to the walls of fear and myth that our last speaker on Wednesday spoke about.  Rami lost his daughter, Smadar, eight years ago in a suicide bomb attack.  Smadar was 14 years old at the time. From the age of five, she had been demonstrating against the occupation.

Rami spoke of his work as an attempt to create cracks in the walls of fear and myths that the two peoples here hide behind.  When addressing school audiences of both Palestinians and Israelis he feels if he can get at least one child to understand his message he will have saved more blood from being spilled.  Rami stressed that his mission was not about achieving forgiveness, but reconciliation.  For who can grant forgiveness to those who murder children, Israeli or Palestinian? 

He hopes that all can find the middle ground between total forgiveness and total hatred – in reconciliation. 

-- Virginia Wilber

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