I wish I knew how it would feel to be free

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For some months now, I've had a song on my mind. For me it sums up the life of Palestinians under Israeli occupation and discrimination, and since I'm going back to Norway in just a few days, I'd like to end my blog with it. So, here it is. If you want to hear Nina Simone sing it, go to YouTube.

And I wish I knew how it would feel to be free
I wish I could break all the chains holdin' me
I wish I could say all the things that I should say
say'em loud, say'em clear for the whole round world to hear.



I wish I could share all the love that's in my heart,
remove all the bars that keep us apart.
I wish you could know what it means to be me.
Then you'd see and agree that every man should be free.



I wish I could give all I'm longin' to give.
I wish I could live like I'm longing to live.



I wish I could do all the things that I can do,
and though I'm way over due I'd be startin' a new



Well I wish I could be like a bird in the sky
How sweet it would be if I found I could fly



Oh I'd soar to the sun and look down at the sea
And I'd sing 'cause I'd know yeah
And I'd sing 'cause I'd know yeah



And I'd sing 'cause I'd know
I'd know how it feels
I'd know how it feels to be free



Yeah yeah I would know how it feels
Yes I'd know I'd know
How it feels
How it feels
To be free




The photos show, chronologically:
1 People waiting at the Gilo checkpoint between Bethlehem and Jerusalem
2 The Hannouneh family, who were thrown out of their home in East Jerusalem in August last year, sitting outside their house
3 One of the unrecognized Bedouin villages in the Negev, Beer Sheva in the horizon
4 Children in Aida refugee camp in Bethlehem
5 Blooming almond trees in Beit Sahour
6 Beit Sahour farmers who have lost land to the Har Homa settlement, and are now struggling to keep their land in Oush Ghrab
7 Children in the southern Hebron hills, who are facing settler violence on their way to school
8 The painting of a flute player on a wall in Deheishe refugee camp in Bethlehem

You can find all the stories on my blog.
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Qalqiliya

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Before I built a wall I'd ask to know
what I was walling in or walling out
and to whom I was like to give offense.
Something there is that doesn't love a wall.

(From "Mending Wall" by Robert Frost)

This week Lars, Ciara, Gjermund and I visited Qalqiliya, a city that is completely surrounded by the Barrier. We met with Muhammad Selim, who is working with refugee issues, and Rafiq Marabi, who is the leader of the National Committee for Grassroots Resistance, an organization working against the wall and the settlements. Rafiq Marabi took us around Qalqiliya, and gave us an introduction to the situation there. He told us that 60 percent of the land belonging to Qalqiliya was taken in the war in 1948 (Israel during this war conquered more land than was given to the state in the UN partition plan, to be more precise, 78 percent as opposed to 55). Today 70 percent of the inhabitants of Qalqilya are refugees. After Israel's occupation of the West Bank in 1967, additional land around the city of Qalqilya has been taken to settlements. Finally, in 2003, 2500 dunams (a dunam is 1000 square meters), ended up on the other side of the Barrier. The Qalqiliya that is inside the wall consists of 6500 dunams, 4000 of which is built-up area. Here's a map over Qalqilya city and the surrounding area:



As should be clear from the map, not only Qalqiliya city is divided by the Barrier, but the whole area around it. If you want to see how the Barrier is crisscrossing the entire Qalqiliya governorate, see page 4 of this UN report. All in all the wall is taking 60 percent of the land. The rest is divided by the Barrier and by settlements. "They are killing the possibility for a Palestinian state, they are killing the possibility for peace", Marabi comments.


Rafiq Marabi and Lars looking at a map.

In Qalqiliya city 45,000 people are living. But many are moving, because their lives have become so difficult. At the time 37 percent live under the poverty limit. Traditionally Qalqiliya has been a center of agriculture, because of its rich water supplies. According to Muhammad Selim, this is also why so many settlements have been constructed around it, and why the wall now is taking even more land. Farmers who have land on the other side of the wall, have great difficulties in reaching it. Many greenhouses are abandoned because farmers are not able to look after them during the day. If land is not cultivated within a period of three years, Israel can use an old Ottoman law to confiscate it. Other greenhouses had to be removed in order to make place for the Barrier.

The National Committee for Grassroots Resistance works against these Israeli policies in different ways: media work, demonstrations, working with political leaders and also legal work within the Israeli court system. In court they have managed to change slightly the route of the Barrier. What they asked for was for the Barrier to go along the so-called Green Line between Israel and the West Bank. The reason that was given why this was impossible was the settlements. If anyone wondered, the settlements are just as illegal according to international law as the Barrier is.

Back at Muhammad Selims office, we talked more about the effects of the Barrier on people in the area. Selim spoke about the difficulties of getting proper health care for the people left on the other side of the wall, and also of maintaining social ties. "If you want to have a wedding, you have to get permits for all your guests to cross the gate", Selim said, and continued: "We don't want to be animals, who just eat and work, we want to be human beings. You start to think that you are not like others, there are limitations everywhere."


The Wall in Qalqiliya.
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Study war no more

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I remember the first time I saw an Israeli soldier wearing a machine gun. I had only seen a gun once before in my life, a pistol carried by a police officer in France a few years ago. This time I was at a checkpoint between Beit Jala and Jerusalem. The sight of the machine gun was so shocking that it almost made me cry. I know that there is an occupation and that soldiers carry weapons, but still to see something that is produced to kill people is absurd to me. Now I am used to soldiers and machine guns. They are everywhere, not just at the checkpoints, but in the streets, cafes and buses, as Israel has many soldiers, and most of them carry their weapon even when they are off duty. I have seen settlers carrying machine guns as well. Despite the amount of settler violence towards Palestinians, settlers are not checked and disarmed at the many checkpoints scattered over the West Bank. Protection is for Israelis, not Palestinians.

A while ago I met with Ruth Hiller, who is active in a movement called New Profile. It is a feminist organization working for the demilitarization of the Israeli society. Ruth told me some interesting things about the Israeli military. She described how different parts of society are influenced by it, for instance how army networks are dominating politics as well as business. "One of the most militarized public spheres is the schools", she said. There are assistants in schools wearing uniforms, and often the principal is an ex-general (They retire and re-educate at 44.). Recruiting takes place during the two last years in high school: Different tests take place there, and military officials come to encourage the pupils to join different units. Teachers are obliged to identify children with low motivation and report them. People from the military dressed in civil then come and talk to them.

Some may have heard about how young Israelis who refuse to enter the army, have to go to jail. You can read about some of them on this website. When these conscientious objectors have finished their sentence, they are again asked to join the army, and if they say no, they are sent to prison once more. Often it continues like this until jail has made the objector so depressed that he or she is excempt on medical grounds. These people are not the only ones who avoid military service, however. Of the around 80 percent of the Israeli population who are Jewish, a total of 25 percent of high school graduates do not go into the military. Another 26 percent don't complete their service (two years for men and three years for women, men also have reserve service until they are 42). "The myth is that every Jewish boy and girl go into the military. People think that they don't have any other future than being a soldier", Ruth said, and continued: "In Israel you are not allowed to postpone your service a few years like you can in Europe, which means that there is no time to think. Israel could not have conscripted that many at the age of 21, because then people have matured as individuals." She added that soldiers live at home during their service, and only are paid around 100 dollars a month. "That's below minimum wage. It's slave labour", she concluded.

New Profile's main focus is giving support and counseling to people who question their military service or have decided to refuse. They cooperate with other Israeli organizations working in the same field. "It is our belief that there is always a choice", Ruth declared. "There are different ways of solving a conflict. Israelis are told that war is the only way. In New Profile we question this. After all it hasn't been working for 63 years".
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The light from Jerusalem

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Saturday before Easter Sunday is called Sabt en-Nur (Saturday of Light/Fire) by Christian Palestinians. According to Orthodox tradition a holy fire is lit without any human intervention in the Holy Sepulcher (the church held to stand on the place of Golgatha as well as the grave of Jesus). The lighting of the fire has taken place at least since 1066, maybe even centuries before that. The fire is thought to be the flame of the resurrection power, and also the fire of the burning bush that Moses encountered at Mount Sinai. It is brought from Jerusalem by special flights to many Orthodox countries, such as Russia, Serbia, Greece, Belarus, Georgia, Armenia, Bulgaria, Romania, Ukraine, Syria and Lebanon, and welcomed on the airports by state leaders.

The fire also travels through the Wall to the Christian communities at the West Bank. I was at the reception in Beit Sahour. It was a great party, people had dressed up and were crowding the streets, scouts were marching and playing drums and bagpipes. The sound of at least 40 bagpipes playing in unison is pretty intense! I recognized a few of the tunes, the "Symphony of Joy" by Beethoven and then -of course- "My Heart will go on" from Titanic. It was an impressive celebration.


Scouts marching.


More scouts marching.

After speeches, music and marching, at last the light came, the holy light of the resurrection -in a taxi! After it came the prime minister of the Palestinian authority, Salam Fayyad. People surrounded the two cars, out stepped the patriark with the lantern, to the flashing of cameras and the smell of incense. Then we all started a procession through the streets of the Old City. On the balconies more people were watching, some throwing candy down at us. We arrived one of the many churches in Beit Sahour. There was a stage filled with scouts, and people could go into the church to light their own lanterns with the holy fire.


The patriarch stepping out of the car.

With my Lutheran background, Sabt en-Nur reminded me more of the Norwegian constitution day than Norwegian Easter. Still I see that there is no intrinsic link between Christian celebrations and organs. And there was something about this celebration that made sense, even to a Norwergian Protestant. Maybe it was the life and joy of the event. It seemed to suit a resurrection. There was a nationalistic touch to the celebration as well, with the prime minister present and kufiyyes and flags on the bagpipes. But for Christians struggling to stay in the land of the resurrection, as it is called in the Kairos document, I suppose your religion is also about your geografical roots.

But the strongest impression was maybe to see a celebration of a light coming from a city inaccessible to most of the Christians in Beit Sahour. In general, Palestinians are not allowed to go to Jerusalem (East Jerusalem was occupied by Israel in 1967, and is being separated from the West Bank more and more). During religious holidays, people can apply for a permission to go, but many don't get it. Some object to the whole system of permissions. Why should they apply for traveling in their own land? On Palm Sunday there was a demonstration where 100 people managed to pass the checkpoint between Bethlehem and Jerusalem before they were stopped by police on the other side. This was part of an annual procession that used to go between the Church of Nativity in Bethlehem and the Holy Sepulcher in Jerusalem every Easter Sunday. It's so sad to talk to people about their holiday plans, knowing that they can't go to the city where Easter started, in order to go to the Holy Sepulcher, or to see friends and family. But the light of the resurrection crosses the Wall. Maybe it will someday also tear it down.
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Unrecognized

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Some days ago, Lars, Gjermund and I went to the Negev desert in order to learn more about the situation for the Bedouins who are living there. On our way, we crossed the checkpoint between Bethlehem and Jerusalem. It was very crowded this day. It took us one hour just to get through the first lane leading into the terminal itself. As we were waiting, we met Gunnar, who is here with EAPPI, the accompaniment program of the World Council of Churches. I asked him what was going on, and he said: "Well, there are two girls sitting there, and one is just chewing gum and talking on the phone. I tell you, this has been the worst month since I got here." After a while a friend called the humanitarian number of the Israeli military. They told us to wait. Nothing happened.


In the lane at the checkpoint.

In Beer Sheva we met Abu Ali al-Sbeih from The Regional Council for the Unrecognized Villages in the Negev (RCUV). "I wanted you to come, to see how people live in a democracy", he said. Most of the Bedouins in the Negev fled to the West Bank, Gaza and Sinai during the Arab-Israeli war in 1948. Those who remained were forced to move to the northern parts of the Negev, around the city of Beer Sheva. By the end of the 1950s, the Israeli state had managed to appropriate over 90 percent of all land in the Negev. In the 60s and 70s, the government planned seven townships where they wanted to "concentrate" the Bedouin population, without consulting them. Those who refuse to move to these townships, live in the so-called unrecognized villages.

While 134 agricultural communities have been developed for the exclusive use of the Jewish population of the Negev, not a single Arab community has been authorized since 1948. Consequently, you will not find the unrecognized villages in the Negev on a map, and they do not receive services or infrastrucure like water, electricity or roads. To construct permanent buildings is illegal, so Israeli authorities regularly destroy Bedouin homes. Even villages and houses that were there long before the state of Israel was established, suddenly have become illegal.

"There are 45 villages with 90,000 inhabitants", Abu Ali al-Sbeih tells us.
"They destroy our houses and take our land to make us move to densely populated areas. We want to live as Bedouins, with animals and an agriculture with low water consumption, but that's impossible when we are placed in cities. Every week they come and destroy houses, because they say that they are illegal. But we have no one to apply to for permission."
He keeps describing how difficult the situation is. Children have to travel long ways to go to school. Many don't go. If a mother needs to take her child to the clinic, she will often have to walk several kilometers before she reaches a road. The schools -there are separate schools for Jews and Bedouins- have a bad quality. And all the time they see how different their situation is from that of Israeli Jews, who have everything they need.

Al-Sbeih takes us to two unrecognized villages. One of them is called Assir. The houses have been standing here for a long time. Then Israel built a high voltage wire just over the village. Now the inhabitants live with the risk of cancer.
"Every time there's a storm, the people here are so afraid that parts of the construction will fall down," al-Sbeih comments.


Assir.

In the other village, Khashm Zanna, 600 children are picked up by 12 buses every day to go to school.
"It costs more to drive these children back and forth than to have a school here. Why do they do it? Because they don't want us to live here".
Al-Sbeih tells us about the Regional Council, which represents the unrecognized villages to the state and the international society. They also arrange courses, where people learn to communicate about their own situation.


Sitting down for tea in Khashem Zana.

Abu Ali Al-Sbeih describes the beauty of the traditional Bedouin life: the music, the fellowship, the handicrafts and the love for the desert.
"Every type of nature has its special characteristics. The life of the Bedouins is tied to what is natural in the desert. We know how to live in harmony with it. And we appreciate it, the silence, for instance. I don't mind young people moving to the city. But those who want to live in the desert, are not allowed."
We ask Al-Sbeih how the Israeli government defends it policies towards the Bedouins.
"They listen to us, and they know what is going on, but they don't want to do as we say, because they want our land. They want to pressure and pressure and pressure us, so that we move.", he answers.
"When I open my door and go out, I meet limitations and barriers. I want a free life. I want to live in a world that stretches out, like the desert."


From Assir.
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Victory in Umm Salamona

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For those of you who have been reading my blog regularly, you might have been wondering what has happened to the hilltop in Umm Salamona, where we planted trees in November and December to avoid it being taken for settlement expansion. For those of you who haven't read about Umm Salamona, the matter in short was that the supreme court has ruled that the hilltop has to be cultivated before the end of 2009, or it would be confiscated (and beyond doubt, given to the neighbouring settlements). See my posts The hills are alive and Trees and threats in Umm Salamona for more background.

I contacted Awad, the initiator of the campaign, last week to hear how things were going in Umm Salamona. Awad told me that the land will not be confiscated. By planting 1250 trees there, Awad and other activists have managed to reclaim the land. Even though deer held by settlers are damaging many of the trees (there is no money for building metal fences), Awad describes the situation as good.

People, Palestinians and foreigners, have, by non-violent means, prevented a hilltop from being stolen. The people in Umm Salamona can go there, to enjoy the beautiful landscape or to harvest the trees. And they can feel that there is some kind of right and wrong in this world, and some way to pursue it. Still around half a million settlers are living on stolen land in the West Bank, including East Jerusalem. But the victory in Umm Salamona is a message, to the settlers and the Israeli military that the land belongs to the Palestinians, and that it is important to them. And to the world about what is going on in the lives and land of the Palestinians.
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Checkpoint gospel

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These days there's a conference going on in Bethlehem, arranged by Bethlehem Bible College. "Christ at the Checkpoint: Theology in the Service of Peace and Justice", it's called. Between 200 and 25o Evangelical Christians from the US and Europe, as well as Palestinians, are gathered to work with theology in the Palestinian context. Christ is at the checkpoint. What does he have to say to people there?

Gjermund and I attended a lecture yesterday by Gary M. Burge, who is a professor in the New Testament at Wheaton College in Chicaco. He talked about the New Testament and the Land, a topic that he has just finished a book about. I'm sure I didn't catch everything that Dr. Burge said, but I'd like to render a few points he made.


From the lecture. Thank you to Gjermund for letting me use his picture.

First of all, he pointed out that Holy Land theologies was a highly debated issue among Jews in Jesus' time. Jews were under Roman occupation. Should they fight to get their sovereignty back? What about Jews living in diaspora, who were actually the majority? Could you really be a good Jew living outside the Holy Land? Considering this debate, Jesus' silence about this issue is a loud silence, Dr. Burke argued. Still the question is touched upon in some passages in the gospels, for instance in the Beatitudes: "Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth." (Matthew 5:5). According to Dr. Burke, the word in Greek for "earth" can also be translated "land", as in the Greek version of the strikingly similar verse in Psalm 37: "But the meek will inherit the land and enjoy great peace." "Land" and "inheritance" were conceptions tightly linked to the promise to the Jews. But here Jesus does not say that the land belongs to a certain people, but to those who are meek. Does this mean that Jesus gave the land to his followers? No, says Dr. Burke. The rest of the New Testament interprets "the land" in relation to the Kingdom of God.

This is reaffirmed by the practice and writings of the early Christian church. The gospel is preached to Diaspora Jews. But Jews or non-Jews who receives the new faith, are they asked to move to the Holy Land? Never. They can stay where they are. There is no territorial theology in early Christianity. Paul is in his writings strikingly uninterested in geography. Terms connected to Holy Land theology are reinterpreted. For instance, Abraham's seed, that the promises were spoken to, is not the Jewish people, but Jesus (Gal, 3:16). And what was Abraham promised? According to Paul's letter to the Romans 4:13, not today's Israel, but "the world"! Also in the other texts in the New Testament, "land" is not connected to territory. For instance, in the Book of Revelation, Jerusalem is a city newly built by God, not the city in Judea. The country the Christians are longing for, is not Israel, it's heaven or the heavenly renewal of the world.

For those who have an idea about the support Evangelical Christians have given to the Zionist cause especially in the USA, this message and this conference is potentially revolutionary stuff. Of course the people present at that lecture do not make up a big percentage of Evangelical Christians. Some of them are still traveling around Israel in buses with slogans like: "I will not keep silent for Zion's sake. Christians united for Israel." But the change in many churches around the world is noticed and even warned about by those in Israel who support their country's policies, as can be seen in this article in Jerusalem Post. The Kairos document might, with it's urge for churches to revisit theologies that are justifying the occupation and to stand up in support for the oppressed, add momentum to this change. It might actually mean a difference. It might be good news at the checkpoint.


From the wall. Thank you to Gjermund's father, who took the photo.
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Tourists taken, tourists missed

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Earlier I have written about how land and water is being taken from Palestinians. During the last two weeks I have traveled through Israel and the Palestinian territories together with friends and family of Gjermund, and it seems to me that another resource, namely the tourists, is also to a large extent being controlled by Israel.

An example of this is to be found just outside Beit Sahour, the Herodium mountain. Constructed as a fortress and a palace by king Herod the Great, the site is now controlled by Israeli authorities, as it lies in area C. A poster at the entrance promised that the "Israeli nature and historical heritage" was in the best hands. The man who collected the fee was an Israeli, and it is hard to believe that any Palestinian will ever see that money.


The Israeli flag at Herodium, tied up that day because of the wind. Thank you to Gjermund, who has taken the photos in this post.

Further to the east the Jordan valley and the land west of the Dead Sea, except for Jericho, is under complete Israeli control (see this article by the Israeli human rights group BTselem to learn more about what this means for the Palestinians who are living there). A good proportion of the Dead Sea shore is within Israel. This apparently isn't enough. On the West Bank side, there are Israeli-run tourist resorts waving the Israeli flag, settlements and a factory producing cosmetic products for Ahava, using stolen minerals from the Dead Sea. Palestinians who want to be tourists in their own land, on the other hand, can have a difficult time getting to the Dead Sea, according to this article in the Independent.

Occupation seems to be good business.

Not for the Palestinians, though. While tourists are crowding the shores of the Dead Sea and streaming to Jerusalem and the many churches around the Sea of Galilee, there are strangely few visitors at many holy sites in the West Bank. One of them is Jacob's Well in Nablus, where Jesus sat down to talk to the Samaritan woman. The well is still there inside a beautiful church full of icons and chandeliers. When we visited the place this week, Gjermund, his parents and I were the only people there.


In the church of Jacob's well.

People don't come to the place where Jesus was baptized, which is inside the West Bank. Instead they come to Yardenit, a place on the Israeli side of the Jordan river bank. The center is run by a kibbutz and in the year 2000 they received a million visitors.


People being baptized at Yardenit.

Bethlehem and Beit Sahour have many tourists. But most of them only stay for a few hours, leaving little income for people here. Driving through the checkpoint in their bus, they don't see the long rows of Palestinians waiting to cross or Israeli soldiers with machine guns. Lately it has also become more difficult for tourist to travel to and from the West Bank on their own. Foreigners are not allowed to take the 21-bus driving through a checkpoint to get from Bethlehem to Jerusalem, they are only allowed to go via the big Gilo checkpoint, where you never know whether crossing will take ten minutes, one hour or two (which is why I have to leave home 7.10 on Sunday mornings in order to get to church).

I don't know enough about tourism to explain thoroughly why most pilgrims only see Israel or what they think is Israel when they come to the Holy Land. I'm sure it's not fair to blame Israel alone.

But I think the occupation is part of the explanation, though, realities like how Nablus and Jacob's well is surrounded by seven checkpoints, and how Israel controls the border and does not allow Palestinians to have their own airport, let alone move freely in their own land.
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Planting hope

Last week the Joint Advocacy Initiative (JAI), where I volunteer, arranged the Olive Planting Program together with the Alternative Tourism Group. Over forty people came from Europe and the USA to plant olive trees and learn more about the situation of the Palestinians. In total we planted 1600 olive trees, all sponsored by individuals and groups from all over the world. The trees were planted in areas that are threatened to be taken in order to build settlements. In this way JAI aims to "keep hope alive", which is the slogan of the campaign. On the photo below you can see one of the fields we planted, belonging to the village of Beit Eskaria. The buildings in the background are part of an outpost (a settlement not recognized by the Israeli government).


The man in the front is Osmund, who read about the Olive Planting Program in an article by me and the other GoCYs in the newspaper and decided to come!

One of the places where we planted olive trees was Oush Ghrab, lying just outside Beit Sahour. People in Beit Sahour fear that Oush Ghrab will be taken to build settlements. If this happens, Bethlehem will be surrounded on all sides by settlements, which among other things means that there is no way for Bethlehem to expand. Oush Ghrab was used as a military base both under the Jordanian and the first decades of the Israeli occupation. In 2006 the military left the area, and people in Beit Sahour decided to build a community center to make sure that this area would not be confiscated again. Among other things there's a football field and a hall for parties there now.


From the community center at Oush Ghrab. Note the star of David on the climbing wall.

The hall was built illegally, since Palestinians hardly ever are allowed to build in area C (which comprises most of the West Bank, and where Israel exerts full civil and military control). Two years later, in 2008, settlers started coming. This article from Times gives an impression of what was going on. Lately the settler activity has escalated. Settlers come to Oush Ghrab every week, sometimes bringing rabbis who preach there, other times spraying David stars and racist motives on the place. If you want to read more about Oush Ghrab and the settlers, see this article by Hagit Ofran, director of the Settlement Watch project of the Peace Now movement.



Two weeks ago, people in Beit Sahour formed a committee for the popular defense of Oush Ghrab. They decided to work non-violently, among other things by planting trees. And so it was decided to bring the people on the Olive Planting Program here to join the peaceful resistance.


Two girls from Rønningen folk high school in Norway planting trees in Oush Ghrab.


Fatima Jubran and her son, Ra'ed Jubran.

The trees were planted in the parts of Oush Ghrab that are still fields. While people planted, there were Israeli soldiers watching us. The owner of the land, Fatima Jubran and her son Ra'ed were there and expressed their gratitude for the support.
- We are afraid to come here alone, because of the Israelis. The people who come here to help give us courage to come and plant our land, Ra'ed said.
He told me that another piece of land close to the hill Abu Gneim had been taken from him and annexed to Jerusalem. Now it is on the other side of the wall. I asked Fatima and Ra'ed what thoughts they had about the future.
- We hope that peace will come to our land, but the Israelis and the settlements are preventing peace, Fatima answered. Ra'ed said:
- We need to feel that we are humans and have rights like everyone else in this world.
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Winter Wonderland

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Coming from a country where winter means death and spring resurrection, I am surprised to find that winter is the greenest time of year at the West Bank (although I must admit that I am yet to witness spring here). Ever since November, when the temperature dropped and rain came more often, it has become a little greener every day. Now the almond trees are blossoming, and there are flowers on the ground as well. It is so beautiful. As you look at the photos, please let your imagination add sunshine in your face, birds singing and the sweet smell of warm, moist soil.








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Arab + Jew = true

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Last weekend I was at a guided tour in Jerusalem in order to learn more about the Middle Eastern Jews in Israel, a group often called Mizrahi. Rotem Mor, the Israeli guy that was giving the tour, told us about the rich history of Jews in the Middle East. Throughout this history, there have been many cultural links between the Arab and the Jewish culture. For instance, in Andalucia in the Middle Ages, the Hebrew language was changed so that one could write poems in the Arabic style and structures. And the great Jewish Medieval philosopher, Rambam (in the West often called Maimonides), actually wrote in so called "Jewish Arabic", meaning Arabic with the Hebrew alphabet.

In general, life for Jews was easier in the Middle East than in Europe, Rotem told us. Although they were not equal with Muslims, in most cases they did not suffer persecutions. By the beginning of the twentieth century, there lived around one million Jews in the Middle East. They were not very much involved in Zionism, but the tensions that were growing in Palestine, were also felt by Jews living in the rest of the region. This, and the second world war, made the Mizrahi start to ask whether there was a place for them in the Arab countries anymore. Israel also actively tried to make Middle Eastern Jews immigrate through different policies.

In many ways, however, the Mizrahi ended up in an underprivileged position in the Israeli society, living near the borders, where it was more difficult to stay regarding both economy and security. Besides, the majority ended up doing physical work, while the European Jews (Ashkenazi) dominated the universities. A reaction to this was the movement The Israeli Black Panthers (inspired by the Black Panthers in the USA), who were active in the early 70s. Rotem told us the story of the Black Panthers while showing us a previously Mizrahi -now mixed- neighbourhood in Jerusalem. After the conquest in 1948 it had been named Morasha by Israeli authorities, but the Mizrahi preferred to use the Arabic name, Musrara, as most of them were more familiar with Arabic than with Hebrew.


From the Morasha/Musrara neighbourhood.

Because of a comment I had on one on my blog posts (one from December called "An image in captivity"), I was interested in knowing more about how and why the Mizrahi Jews left their countries in the late 40s and in the 50s. The writer of the comment made a connection between the Palestinian refugees and what he saw as Jewish refugees from the Arab countries: As Arab Jews had been received in Israel, Palestinians should be integrated in their "new homeland". So I asked Rotem: Were the Middle Eastern Jews expelled? Is it valid to think of the Mizrahi and the Palestinians as an exchange of refugees? An interesting conversation followed.

Rotem said that it was more correct to say that the Middle Eastern Jews were questioning their future in the Arab countries rather than that there was an expulsion. And he referred to the stand of The Democratic Mizrahi Rainbow, an umbrella group for Middle Eastern Jews, who do not accept the idea of a refugee exchange. The reason for this is that the two groups in question did not benefit from it. The property left by Mizrahi in Arab countries is not in the hands of Palestinian refugees, and the old Arab houses that the Palestinians left, now are the homes mostly of Ashkenazi families. And, (this is my own argument) this exchange was not chosen by the two groups.

If you want to read more about the Mizrahi, see the website of The Democratic Mizrahi Rainbow. They have several interesting articles, among others one about Iraqi-Israeli literature and one about the relationship between the Mizrahi issue and the Palestinian issue, written by professor Jehouda Shenhav, who is also a Mizrahi Jew.

One of the things that Mizrahi seem to have struggled with, was their Arab cultural background. For them, as Arab Jews, it was their own culture, but as Israelis, it was the culture of the enemy. I think this is very well captured in the this poem, "Baghdad, February 1991" by Ronny Someck:

Along these bombed-out streets I was pushed in a baby carriage.
Babylonian girls pinched my cheeks and waved palm fronds over my blond down...
What's left from then became very black like Baghdad and the baby carriage we removed from the shelter the days we waited for another war.
Oh Tigris, oh Euphrates, pet snakes in the first map of my life,
how you shed your skin and became vipers.
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Glimpses of a childhood in Aida

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With the Young Christian Democrats from Norway (KrfU), we visited one of the three refugee camps in Bethlehem, Aida. We met with Rich Wiles, who works in the organization Lajee in the camp. Rich was asked to tell us a little bit about how life is like in Aida.

Rich works with children and young people, so this was his focus. He started to talk about the wall, which had disconnected the camp from an olive field nearby, where the children used to go and play. There are no gardens or football fields in the camp, so now the children are often playing at the verandas of the houses or in the streets instead.

People live densely in the refugee camps, and it makes life difficult in many ways. Water is scarce for all Palestinians on the West Bank, but in the camps even more so. In Aida, they have water two hours a week in the winter, and then people fill up water tanks to store water for the rest of the week. During summer people don't have water every week. This summer some families didn't get water in ten weeks. Israel controls water in the West Bank, and there is a clear contrast between the scarcity of Palestinian communities, and the constant water supply in the settlements.

Many homes in Aida have bullet holes in their walls. Rich said that Israeli soldiers are shooting into the camp regularly. He told us about a twelve year old boy, Miras, who was shot in his stomack while playing in his own house. It was noon on Friday, so everyone was in the mosque, praying. The streets were empty and calm. Miras survived, and his father wanted to take the case to court. He wrote to Israeli authorities, and needed an answer to his letter in order to open the case. The incident took place in 2006, and he is still waiting. The girl's school is Aida has also been shot against many times, so many times that when it was rebuilt, they made it without windows, which the bullets could go through.

It is so hard to believe that Israeli soldiers are shooting towards homes and schools, apparently for no reason. Like it was hard to believe when I met a mother in Jalazone refugee camp outside Ramallah this autumn. Her son had been shot, too, and he died. But even harder to believe is the fact Israel is not investigating these incidents.

With the help of Lajee, Miras had made a short movie, where he talked about what had happened to him. He ended: "I am thinking a lot about when I was shot. I try to solve it by playing games on the computer".


Children playing in Aida camp. Note the bullet hole near the window.
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Boundaries

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The last days we have had a group on visit from the Young Christian Democrats (KrfU) in Norway. At the moment they are in Israel, as they want to see and hear from both sides. Among the places we visited while they were here, was a valley close to the town Beit Jala. This valley has been annexed to Jerusalem by Israel. Baha, one of the empolyees at Joint Advocacy Initiative, where I volunteer, took us to a viewpoint over the valley. On both sides of us we could see olive trees with white marks, designating the planned route of the wall. When it is built, it will disconnect the valley from Beit Jala.

Notice the white marks on the trees, showing where the wall will be built.

This is not the first time Israel has changed the city boundaries of Jerusalem. When East Jerusalem was occupied and unilaterally annexed after the six days' war in 1967 (unilaterally annexation is prohibited by international law), they did not only take the six square kilometers which had previously comprised East Jerusalem, but also 64 square kilometers of the West Bank. The wall is again changing the city boundaries. On the one hand it is leaving out areas of East Jerusalem where Palestinians are living, so that 55 000 Palestinians will no longer be Jerusalem residents when the wall is finished. On the other hand it will include three Israeli settlements on the West Bank and big areas of undeveloped land. If you want to read more about this, see the website of the Israeli human rights organisation BTselem, or the Israeli organisation Ir-Amim, which is working especially with Jerusalem.

We went down into the valley to visit Abed, a Palestinian who is owning land in what used to be the West Bank and is now Israel. Palestinians need a permit from Israeli authorities or to hold a residency of Jerusalem in order to be allowed inside the city. Since Abed has neither, he is now staying illegaly in his own land.

Baha to the right and Abed in the middle.

States have boundaries. But how absurd is not a boundary that is changed by one side against the will of the other, a boundary that lets Israelis settle on the Palestinian side, while refugees can not cross it the opposite way, in order to return to their homes?
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Christmas sounds and Christmas silence

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The Christmas season here at the West Bank is long. It started early in December with Christmas lights in Bethlehem and is still going on with the Orthodox Christmas this week (a majority of the Christians in Beit Sahour are Orthodox).

A major difference between Christmas here and Christmas in Norway is the sound level, I think. It looks like Norwegians and Western people in general think of Christmas as a silent time. Just think of the first lines of this Christmas carol:

O little town of Bethlehem,
how still we see thee lie,
above thy deep and dreamless sleep
the silent stars go by...

Not to forget other Christmas carols like "Silent night" and "Det lyser i stille grender". In Bethlehem and Beit Sahour, people rather seem to think that when a saviour is born, you ought to make some sound. Maybe they are inspired by the angels who sang for the shepherds? I suppose a host of angels is something pretty mighty to listen to.

Anyway, Christmas here is a holiday full of sounds: bagpipe prosessions, children shows (with more decibel than what would ever be allowed in Norway), candle prosessions (of course accompanied by music on a loud speaker) and young people driving their cars (also with music) through the streets late at night. This week the Greek Orthodox church chose to put their whole midnight service on the loud speakers so that everyone in the neighbourhood could hear it. It was loud and clear in my bedroom even with the windows shut and my pillow over my head. The chanting, singing and ringing of bells lasted for a couple of hours, only to let the good old call for prayers take over at around five o'clock...


Candle procession in Beit Sahour.

Still, there were some silent moments during my Palestinian Christmas as well. Stopping one December evening by a painted wall in Beit Sahour, for instance.





Or the Hannoun family sitting under their Christmas tree in East Jerusalem. After being thrown out of their home in August by religious settlers, you can find them on the street outside it every day, waiting for justice. If you want to read more about them, see Gjermund's blog. Maybe they are the best reminders of how and why Jesus was born. Or maybe we need it all in order to understand: the sounds, the silence and the call for justice.
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På skuleveg

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In Norway we have a song where a part of the refrain goes like this:

Hit eit steg og dit eit steg
dansar eg fram på skuleveg...

It is about a girl who is happily dancing on her way to school, eager for everyone to see her new dress. I guess most of us have memories from our way to and from school, happy memories and maybe scary ones, too. Last week I visited two schools in the Hebron hills. The children there also have their memories from their way to school, very different from those of Norwegian children.

The first school was situated close to the wall. Because most of the wall is built not on the so-called green line between Israel and the West Bank, but on Palestinian territory, the children at this school have to walk through a checkpoint every day to get to school. A checkpoint is not a place for a child, I think. For me, not used to seeing weapons, it is shocking to see people walking around with machine guns. I guess it is not any better to get used to it. Because of the proximity to the wall, it is not allowed to build with concrete in this area. A new concrete building had been built for the school. It has a demolition order.

In the second school we met Sam, who is working in the Christian Peacemaker Team (CPT). Because of the violence from settlers, people from CPT accompany people on most of their errands. They also used to walk children to and from school, but Israeli authorities ruled that since their presence was seen as a provocation, Israeli soldiers should take over this task. According to Sam, the soldiers are not doing a good job. The children are not followed all the way, but have to walk the last 200 meters to and from their village on their own. Often the soldiers are late, leaving the children to wait for them all alone. The day we were there, settlers had thrown stones on the children with slingshots until they ran back to their homes. The smaller children had all been crying. "I think even the soldiers are afraid of the settlers," Sam said. "People say that if you lay hand on a settler, you will for ever stay in the lowest rank of the army."


Sam outside the school.

YMCA tries to give opportunities to children in the Hebron area to express themselves and to get other kinds of input than the settler violence. YMCA employees travel around to 300 schools and have activities with the children, using creative tools like clay, music or drawing. The day we were there a man and a woman were handing out clay and making figures together with the children.


The room these children are sitting in also has a demolition order.


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