From the Ground: The Real Israel-Palestine

Final Summary: “Too Great A Burden To Bear”

I landed in Israel thinking about the words of Rodney King. “Why can’t we all just get along?” King asked after being brutally beaten by four members of the Los Angeles Police Department in 1991. In a modern world characterized by great advancements in knowledge and understanding in so many areas, why are Israelis and Palestinians still engaged in a bitter battle over a sliver of land no larger than America’s 45th largest state? Why has peace proved elusive for more than 60 years?

During my travels through Israel and the occupied Palestinian territories, I sought the answer. I found that the conflict is an amazingly complicated puzzle with a simple solution.

It’s complicated because religious convictions trump pragmatism. Religious Jews believe that the land of Israel was given to them by God. They pray in the direction of Jerusalem— where they believe the Messiah will one day arrive to rebuild the Holy Temple and usher in a perfect world of love and redemption. For Muslims, the same area houses the Dome of the Rock, the world’s oldest surviving Islamic shrine and the point from which the Prophet Muhammad ascended to Heaven.

It’s complicated because of the region’s ancient history. Israeli Jews present archaeological evidence of Jewish inhabitants over 2,000 years ago and proclaim their right to return to their people’s former homeland. To Palestinians, most of whom can trace their families’ roots in Palestine back more than five generations and know no other land, such claims are irrelevant.

Most of all, it’s complicated because after decades of conflict Israelis and Palestinians can’t see each other as human beings. They have been blinded by the rhetoric of hatred and fear.  “They’re trained to hate,” a Jewish settler told us early in the trip. “They don’t want peace, they’ve never wanted peace,” said another, “they just want our land.”  “They treat us like animals,” a young Palestinian boy told us. We are humiliated every day, said another, “They want to get rid of us. They wish we were all dead.” The feelings expressed on both sides are remarkably similar, and that’s why they’re both wrong.

Prejudices create segregation, both de jure and de facto (there are Jewish cities, Arab cities, and some Christian cities, but no cities that are just cities). The physical and social barriers are so strong that most Israelis and Palestinians have never engaged in personal interactions with the other, besides at the barrel of a gun. Isolation breeds ignorance; lack of understanding breeds distrust and fear, and the vicious cycle continues.

Despite all of this, we found many reasons to remain hopeful. After spending long days and nights with Israelis and Palestinians, sharing family meals, telling each other stories, laughing together, playing outside with their children, and admiring the beautiful land, I was struck by the common bonds of humanity. Israelis and Palestinians alike are loving, compassionate people. They care deeply about their families and dream of a more peaceful future for their children.

At Yad Vashem, Israel’s National Holocaust Museum, we came across a quote from French pastor André Trocmé, a Christian who risked his life to save 5,000 Jews from the horrors of the Nazi camps. When asked why he had sacrificed his own safety for a group of people he had no connection to, he said, “I don’t know what a Jew is. I only know what humans are.”

We met Israelis and Palestinians living their lives by Trocmé’s simple philosophy. Ahmed, a Palestinian scientist who works in the Israeli Ministry of Agriculture, faced with the daily challenge of balancing his own identity with his work to solve the shared problems of water resource conservation and irrigation. Joshua, the son of Jewish immigrants from New Jersey who fell in love with an Arab woman and will be forced to join the Israeli army next year or face imprisonment. Catherine, a Jewish veterinarian who breaks Israeli travel restrictions to treat the sheep and camels of Palestinian farmers in the West Bank. Somewhere along the way they each discovered that human beings have more in common than our divisions suggest, that there is good and bad in all people, and that, in the end, we’re all looking for the same things.

The solution follows this simply premise. Reject the prejudices. Tear down the walls. Talk to your neighbors. Open your hearts and refuse to be ruled by irrational fears. This will be needed regardless of the particular complexities – where the border are drawn, the status of Jerusalem, what to do about the refugees - of the peace agreement that is eventually reached.

That doesn’t mean it will be easy. Human recognition means accepting vulnerability with the risk of leaving everything you know behind. This requires more courage than hatred and fighting, but failure to do so means life without a future, and many are starting to realize this already.

Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. once said, “I have decided to stick with love. Hate is too great a burden to bear.” Israelis and Palestinians together are trapped under the weight of that burden, which is threatening to destroy them both. But we can help lift the burden by accepting both groups as equal partners for peace, bringing them together and facilitating dialogue – not just for a few days but every day – until they are able to make peace.

Final Summary: The Holocaust Of Today

“I support Israel—period. I identify with Israel—period. I never attack, never criticize Israel.” - Elie Wiesel

Aside from learning about the realities on the ground in a way that was impossible from far away, one of my biggest hopes for our trip was to figure out how otherwise rational people could blindly support the actions of a state without unconditonally.

Two Taglit experiences helped me answer that question: our visits to Yad Vashem (Israel’s holocaust memorial and museum) and Har Hersel (Israel’s national cemetery for fallen soldiers and political leaders). Perhaps symbolic of how closely they are linked in the Israeli consciousness, the two occupy the same property in central Jerusalem. It may be impossible to understand the Jewish State and its contemporary struggles without understanding the holocaust.  In fact, until recently Yad Vashem was a “required” stop for all visiting foreign leaders (now it is only strongly encouraged).

The Holocaust remains the lens through which Zionists view their world and this exerts a strong influence on Israeli attitudes and policy. This was reflected in the way our Birthright leaders and guests explained Israel’s armed conflicts since 1948, describing each in the same way: ‘They hated us because we’re Jewish, they tried to eliminate us; but we persevered, destroying them and ensuring our survival (for the time being).’

Zionists are convinced that the State of Israel is the only thing preventing another holocaust against the Jewish people. We were repeatedly told that the reason Jews were so vulnerable in the 1930’s was that they were split up, not having their own country or making up a majority in any single country.

In the words of Benjamin Netanyahu, who may very well become Israel’s next prime minister (again), “No one yet knows what awaits the Jews in the twenty-first century, but we must make every effort to ensure that it is better than what befell them in the twentieth, the century of the Holocaust.” But what is the effect of this effort on Israel’s neighbors?

Walking through Yad Vashem, I couldn’t help but notice parallels to today’s realities: the effort to create a ‘racial state,’ the dehumanization occurring on both side, the occupation and subsequent isolation of territory, even the notion of ‘transfer.’ In March, Israel’s Deputy Defence Minister even threatened a “holocaust” against Gaza if the Qassams kept coming.

This is a comparison that is not lost on the Palestinians. While in Abu Dis, a Palestinian neighborhood of east Jerusalem, we we noticed that following graffiti message sprayed on the wall: “from Warsaw ghetto to Abu Dis ghetto.”

The Nazi holocaust is a tragedy that cannot be discounted, but can we use it (consciously or not) to justify the systematic oppression of another people? Shouldn’t the Jews, who know too well the terrible toll of such conditions, lead the struggle against racism and oppression around the world?

Elie Wiesel, the famous Auschwitz–survivor, said of his experiences: “I swore never to be silent whenever human beings endure suffering and humiliation. We must always take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented.”

It’s clear then who he sees as the victims and who the tormentors. In analyzing the Zionist rationale, its important to understand the inability (or unwillingness) of many to see themselves in any role other than the victims. This drives them to support policies which destroy the lives of others and end up bringing more violence and less security.

Martin Luther King Jr. Day And Our Final Summaries

Happy Martin Luther King Jr. Day. It’s a great day for all of us (not just because my middle name is “Martin” in his honor). Here’s to hoping that his dream will someday come true.

It’s fitting that today is today because tonight, after days of build up, we will publish our final summaries about our trip to Israel. They will mention MLK Jr. and touch on themes that would doubtlessly be important to him.

Expect those in a few hours.

Statement from the Israeli branch of Physicians for Human Rights

“

As medical professionals responsible for the health and safety of all people, Jews and Arabs, we cannot remain silent in the face of the horrors occurring before our eyes:

On Friday, 16th of January, we will set out together, members, volunteers, and supporters of Physicians for Human Rights-Israel, to accompany a convoy of food and medical supplies for the residents of the Gaza Strip.

Together, Arabs and Jews, we will express solidarity with the residents of Gaza and the south of Israel, and call:

· Stop the killing of innocent people
· Stop attacking medical teams
· Stop withholding medical treatment from the wounded
· Stop shooting at aid convoys

“

The group will hold a rally near the border and then proceed to the border crossing to attempt to bring in much-needed relief supplies.

My “Favorite” Part of Israel

Since I’ve gotten this question 100 times since returning to Northwestern, I thought I’d answer it here in a public forum:

Yad Vashem, the Israeli Holocaust museum.

It was there, during an extremely emotional day that left me near tears at several times, that I finally began to understand the importance that the state of Israel to Jews, who just a few years before the state’s establishment saw the world stand by as a political party tried to exterminate them.

It was also there that I first saw the striking irony of Israel today— that these targeted peoples are now themselves taking up the enormous task of trying to expel an entire race.

Finally, it was at this museum where I saw a quotation that I will never forget (more on this in a later post).

- Brian

Post-Birthright Analysis: Sexism

By Alex Finkel
For Living the Dream

Now that I’m back in the U.S. and I tell people I went to Israel over winter break, I always get the same question: “So, are you like more Jewish now?” or something like that.

I mean, that was one of the reasons I decided to go to Israel in the first place- to feel more connected to this religion I had halfheartedly observed the past 19 or so years of my life. I had always gone to temple especially for the high holidays, but it was mostly because I felt obligated to, not because I actually cared about what was said in services. So I went to Israel looking for answers and hoping to find some connection to my heritage.

What I found was something very different than what I expected.

It’s two weeks later, and now, odd as it may seem, I feel even more disconnected from my religion. And that’s primarily because of the rampant sexism I witnessed.

For one thing, going to Israel on a Birthright trip is a very different experience for men and women. And although I knew there existed some sort of sexism in Orthodox Judaism (the basis and root of the religion), I never experienced it as I had always attended Reform services.

But on the trip, it was impossible to avoid.

The first Shabbat service separated men and women. According to our tour guide Moshe, the barrier between both genders allowed each to individually focus on prayer and be free from distractions.

But what I saw (or heard really since women were not really able to contribute or participate) was a service that consisted of guys singing some prayers at the top of their lungs and dancing around in circles.

Women sat on the other side. We were supposed to be silent. We didn’t dance. And what I remember most is just about every girl’s uncomfortable expression and body position as if they were counting the minutes until it was over (I know I was).

And when it was over, all I wanted to do was scream, “Hey! Why can’t I do what you guys are doing?” I had never been told I couldn’t do something because I was a woman.

But Shabbat at the Western Wall was even worse. The wall is separated between men and women and the men’s side is twice if not three times as large as the women’s side.

But Birthright chose not to conduct the women’s service at the wall. This was because of the new “Modesty Police” who roamed the women’s side stopping women from dancing and singing. You know, because that wasn’t our place.

Instead we were escorted to the back lot of an archaeological museum and encouraged to dance and sing like the men were doing at the Wall… in this darkly lit area where few people could see us so we wouldn’t offend anyone with our actions.

Truth is, I didn’t want to dance- it just felt wrong to put on this fake smile like I actually enjoyed being oppressed. And so I didn’t. And neither did a lot of the other girls in our group. And the Birthright female group leader got angry and said to us, “This is only going to be what you make of it.”

She’s right. The experience was what I made of it. But sometimes (especially growing up in a country like America that prides itself on the importance of equality), it was just too hard to ignore.

Do I regret going? Of course not. It was certainly eye-opening and even a little bit sad, but I think its made me really appreciate that I live in a place where I really can do whatever I want even though I’m a woman.

I’ll still probably go to services on high holidays as it’s become this tradition that is one of the few constants in my life. But I’m going to stop looking for any connection I might have with my religion. Maybe there just isn’t one there.

And I think I’m okay with that.

Israel And Facebook Statuses

After Israel’s invasion of Gaza, someone decided to create a Facebook application which tracks Hamas rockets being fired into Israel. The idea is, anybody in favor of the invasion can go to a link and get this rocket tracker installed as their status until they disable it.

Naturally, someone else created an application in response which tracks Palestinian casualties.

I have friends who have “donated their status” to both sides. But looking at their statuses today, the disparity is almost laughable:

Jake LaRaus is QassamCount: In the past 36 hours, 33 Hamas rockets hit Israel. 1 hit near a kindergarten in Ashdod city.

Nahla Ahmed is: “In 16 days: 888 Palestinians killed in Gaza (284 children and 100 women) and 4080 injured”