(from 5 March 2012) After visiting Hebron last year, it was one of the most meaningful and emotional day trips that we took. It is a place that provides a microcosm of the conflict and I think it should a required trip for anyone visiting the country. Israeli Jews and Palestinian Muslims living not side by side, but one on top of each other. Fences over your head as you walk through the old city littered with garbage. Surveillance tower, armed guards and razor wire everywhere. How can there be any hope for peace in such a state. Today’s visit to Hebron was just as moving. Once again I found myself overwhelmed with sadness at the barricades and welded shops and it wasn’t until I was in the Al-Ibrahim Mosque that I was able to relax a bit. Holiness transcends religion. In the mosque, resting my head against Leah’s (?) tomb, I was able to gain a moment of peace – to understand that God still holds this land dear, despite the violence and terror that reigns.
After visiting the mosque, we were able to go into the synagogue as well, but without our tour guide. I wish we had been able to have a guide for the synagogue, because I wanted to hear the narrative of that sacred space. After all – providing both religions with access to the tombs of Abraham and Sarah seems a good idea in theory. All that is left of the Christian church is a cornerstone in the mosque with a Greek inscription. On the way out of the synagogue, our group was confronted by a Jewish man who proclaimed that all the Arabs should leave Palestine because this land belongs to the Jews because that’s what it says in the bible. It was said with the same ferocity and conviction of Roma locuta est, causa finita est. Perhaps it was the tone, but something about the man’s words caused me to break and I went off a bit and sat down on the stone steps and cried. I cried for the land, for all the lives lost, the livelihoods destroyed. Some of the beauties inside the mosque were created by Saladin following the destruction of the Christian Church that stood on that site. In the thousand years since the crusades, have we made any progress?
The Jewish settler we met with claimed “The Wall is a necessary evil.” The fact of it being ‘necessary’, however, does not make it any less evil.
How can we call it the Holy Land when we, that is humanity, and more specifically members of all three Abrahamic faiths, continuously tear is asunder, spill blood over it, and squabble constantly? Is not the sacred nature of this land worth coming to the table for?
How do we define a people? How do we definie truth? Both are relative. Race is a social construct and to claim that the Jewish “people” are a people and the Palestinians are not is problematic. We must first come to consensus on the term “people” before we can throw it around as a prerequisite for land ownership. History is written by the victors, but who are the victors in this case? Can there be any victors or has there been too much pain and suffering on all sides? Every person here presents their own narrative of their experience and some even claim their narratives to be truth and any others to be lies. Can two conflicting truths exist? Coming from an Episcopal/Anglican context, is it scripture or experience that defines truth, that defines belief? The Jewish settler we met argued his truth on the basis of scripture, that this is the promised land, that the Jewish “people” are entitled to this land, regardless of anything else. The Palestinians argue their narratives and truth on the basis of their experiences – being forced from their own, being restricted in their travel, being subject to search and seizure and all sorts of human rights violation. When two such diametrically opposed sides lay claim to truth, where is the middle way? Do we disregard both? Do we refuse to engage either side? I do not think one can walk through this land, this so-called Holy Land, and turn a blind eye to the pain and suffering on both sides – to the hatred and division that has become “the way it is.”
My American passport grants me a carte blanche – I am allowed to go wherever I wish with almost unrestricted access. “With great privilege comes great responsibility.” How do I use this privilege for the greatest good? Can I ignore the parallels between the occupation / disputed Palestinian territories and the history of the expulsion of Native Americans from their lands in the US or the partitioning of Poland under Prussia, Austria, and Russia? My own cultural history gives me a narrative of a people without a country, of a nation in exile, of persecution. This lens allows me to connect to both sides of the conflicts. It is easy to turn to anger and hate when one has been hurt and much harder to forgive, to turn the other cheek.
The Israeli settler we met with today said “The Jewish faith is based on law, not love. God may love the Palestinians, but I do not.” Perhaps that’s the problem. If we cannot love our fellow human being, how can we hope to attain peace?
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