Peace Quote of the Day - tears for Jerusalem

Everyone I know who has traveled in the Occupied West Bank and has seen the realities of the Occupation and met with people who are working against it and for justice, has had a life-changing experience. This account is typical, with the exception that the author is an American Jew, grandson of a 5^th-generation Palestinian Jew, which lends a different kind of weight to his witness:

“Traveling in Israel and the occupied territories in the summer of 2006, my defenses against the reality of Israel’s crimes crumbled. I witnessed the Separation Wall grabbing huge swaths of Palestinian land, the checkpoints controlling the movement of Palestinians within their own territory and strangling farming, commerce, access to health care, education, and social intercourse. I saw the network of new roads restricted to Israelis; I learned about the assassinations, midnight raids, and collective punishment; I saw the massive, continuing construction of illegal Jewish settlements and towns; I heard firsthand about the vicious acts of ideological Jewish settlers, and words like apartheid and ethnic cleansing sprang to my mind, unbidden and undeniable. That summer, forty years after my first encounter with the land, I saw all this, and my relationship with Israel changed forever.

“My last night in Palestine that summer fell on the ninth of Av, a Jewish day of fasting and mourning, the traditional date of the destruction of the Temple of Solomon and the beginning of the exile of the Jews two thousand years ago. The book of Lamentations, a source text for our liturgy of mourning, attributed by tradition to the prophet Jeremiah, is chanted that night. It is a harrowing description of a people fallen and traumatized.

        Jerusalem has greatly sinned

        Therefore has she been made a mockery

        All who admired her despise her

        For they have seen her disgraced.

        Panic and pitfall are our lot,

        Death and destruction.

        My eyes shed streams of water

        Over the brokenness of my poor people

        (Lam. 1:8, 4:46-48; author’s translation)

“On that night, I sat on a hill overlooking the Old City, in the company of congregations of praying Jews, mostly American émigrés worshiping, I felt, at the shrine of their Jerusalem – a Jerusalem ‘reclaimed’ at the expense of the Palestinian people; a Jerusalem that for Palestinians is also a spiritual and political center; a Jerusalem that is being taken from them street by street, farm by farm, village by village. I stood on that hill and chanted the words as I had every year on this day, descriptions of starvation, rape, slaughter, destruction of homes, and banishment from the land, and, for the life of me, I could apply the words only to the Palestinians. In these words, I now felt their suffering. And my eyes shed streams of water for them, my Palestinian brothers and sisters, and yes, for the brokenness of my own people.”

Mark Braverman, Fatal Embrace

If peace is ever going to come to Palestine, to the Israelis and Palestinians, Jewish, Muslim and Christian, it will be through people like Mark Braverman – through people who can step out of their place, their reality, their perspective, their view of the world (comfortable as it is), enter into the experience of those who are not only “other” but even the enemies of their people, feel their pain, and in fact, change to the degree that all that speaks of their own personal pain, can come somehow to connect to the reality of the pain of their enemy, who they can begin to think of as their “brothers and sisters.”

Would that we all would be able to make a journey like Mark Braverman’s, and experience the transformation which radically changed his life.

Musalaha: Ministry of Reconciliation

This is a powerful introduction to the work of Musalaha (Arabic for "reconciliation"), a non-profit organization headquartered in Jerusalem that seeks to build relationships between Arab and Jewish youth (among many other leadership and peace building projects). I've had the honor of meeting twice with Musalaha's founder, Salim Munayer, an Israeli Arab with a passionate heart for justice, compassion, and transformation in Israel/Palestine.

The first 2:20 minutes contain true pictures of the conflict (the most startling of which, for me, is at the 2:08 marker); the rest of the film is dedicated to hope.

Travel Writing: the border crossing

We began our trip in a Moumayez taxi with a Bedouin driver who spoke of Jordan as a land of peace, and King Abdullah as a man of peace.

My father agreed. "If all Middle Eastern countries had rulers like King Hussein and King Abdullah, this region would be known for its reconciliation rather than its strife."

"Indeed," said our taxi driver.
___________________

At the Jordanian border our passports were stamped by a man who commanded us to smile.

"Why so angry?" he reprimanded our solemn faces, delighted by the picture of my grinning 17-year-old self and our occasional Arabic phrases.
___________________

On the Israeli side we were met with small-scale changes since our last time through -- a working restroom and a new system to sort the desirous from the unwanted. The key? Smile brightly, look innocent (there are some advantages, it would seem, to still looking like a high school teenager), and wave the blue passport that marks me as one of the unthinking loyal.

The girl at the high desk asked where we were going.

"Jerusalem," we say.

"To the West Bank?" she asks.

"Jerusalem," we chorus.

"Only Jerusalem?" she presses.

"Maybe Galilee," we answer.

She nods.

And I wonder, by staying silent are we consenting? To the truth of her assumptions, to the justice of her questions?

"Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light." -Dylan Thomas
___________________

The first sight of David's city -- the church steeple peeking over the hill -- always feels a little like traveling back in time. Back to an age when the world was built in stone, and cities grew out of the earth with flowers and arches, and the land was bathed in dusty sunlight. This is the holy land -- the land of crusader knights and holy fathers -- of tragedy and ecstasy.
___________________

There is a secret code of sorts among those who visit Bethlehem -- a language learned of hms and hahs, evasion and misdirection.

"Where are you going?" asked the German girl in front of us at the border.

"Um, Jerusalem," was the reply.

She laughed.

"Ah, yes, Jerusalem. Smile and wink."

When asked the same question, she replied, "Oh, me too -- Jerusalem."

Asked where she was staying, she said she didn't know yet -- was planning to look around, see the sights.

Stepping off the bus, away from the scrutiny of Israeli soldiers with automatic rifles, her story changed.

"Do you know where to get the bus to Bethlehem?"

You'd think the soldiers would catch on.

Israel EXPANDING settlements

Al Jazeera just announced that Israel plans on expanding settlements in East Jerusalem by building some 900 new homes.

The last time I checked, settlements were supposed to be illegal. Shows how much I know.

A Letter to the President of the United States: Regarding the Middle East and Israel

One of my best friends, and favorite poets, recently visited me in Amman, Jordan, gathering research for a Richter's Grant on poetry and peace. During her six-week stay we traveled extensively in Jordan, as well as visiting Bethlehem and Jerusalem (the inspiration for much of my recent blogging). She is keeping a record of some of her thoughts on the experience (as well as her musings on poetry and poets) on one of her blogsites: From Here to There and (Maybe) Back Again. Her other site, devoted entirely to her poetry, is Poems From a Small Place, which I would highly recommend. As I've mentioned before, she tends to focus on the small details of peace and life -- of being and becoming.

This poem is one of her recent ones -- a reflection on her time in the Middle East -- and is posted on From Here to There. Please don't let the length deter you (especially if you don't tend to be a huge fan of poetry); I assure you it is well worth the read.

A Letter to the President of the United States

To the President of the United States:
I am not a politician, or an official diplomat.
I am a university student, a philosopher, a poet,
a theologian, a woman, a novice world traveler,
a feminist, a peacemaker.
I love God, most of the time, and at others, do not know
how to love God, but like any honest
theologian, I must admit I often do not understand
what she/he has in mind for this world,
a world that is both beautiful and broken.
People do many things in the name of “God”
that I also do not understand. Contradiction
is everywhere. And Jesus, let’s not get started
on the things people say about Jesus. I believe
he was God and human, but schizophrenic? Well,
it’s possible. I find it dangerous to talk about
what Jesus could or could not be.

But enough about theology and those confusions.
I recently traveled to the Middle East. My goal
was to speak with women, hear their stories, see
their faces. And from that, write poems about their lives
in their voices, about their homes, their families, their
thoughts, their struggles, their power. Some of these women
were of Jordanian heritage, one an Iraqi, a couple more
Lebanese, most were Palestinian, forced from their homes
and welcomed by Jordan, but Jordan is a small country.
For five and a half weeks, I was based in Amman, and traveled
for too short a time to Jerusalem and Bethlehem.
Do you want to know why? Because of peace.

I am sure, Mr. President, that you know Jerusalem
is in Israel, and Bethlehem is in the West Bank.
I am sure you also know the United States gives a disproportionate
amount of funds to the Israeli government to use to their “benefit.”
I think it’s great to live in a country that helps others.
A country that makes friends of other countries.
But true friends hold each other accountable.
True friends do not let each other do harm.
True friends stay close, and ask questions.
True friends treat each other as equals, not spoiled children.

And I mean no disrespect,
but after my visit, I am sure you do not know these women’s
stories. You do not know their land or their voices,
their struggles, their thoughts, their homes,
their families, their power. You do not know Palestinians.
You do not know hot tea with mint, directions from a kind stranger,
breakfast and lunch that could make you pop—all daily
occurrences, not rare kind Arabs. Normal kind Arabs, who are pained
by their rare, violent cousins.

You do not know the empty streets of Bethlehem,
fresh plums—a gift—from a woman in the market whose land
has been taken from her. I am sure, though, you know who
took it. You do not know the horror of a checkpoint gate, the wall,
or how long six hours waiting at the Israel border for wanting to
visit Bethlehem feels. You do not know the humiliation
human beings suffer every day. You do not know the inequity.
You do not know how closely refugee camps resemble the ghettos
of Eastern Europe during the Holocaust of WWII,
how much hurt the Israelis are still facing, and how much healing
I wish I could bring them. You do not know how they remind me
of children who grew up with abusive parents, vowing to never
be like that, but who bruise and batter their children. When they are old,
they cry themselves to sleep, and whisper prayers of regret.

Their children cry too.

Mr. President, do you want to know why I believe you
do not know these things?
Because if you did, if you knew them, they would be different.
You would be different.
Knowing details makes peace possible. Our enemies become
neighbors. People have faces that cannot be blown up.
I do not know your reasons for aiding Israel with such gusto.
Perhaps you wish to help God’s “chosen” people. But aren’t we all?
Perhaps you want to make up for America’s late entry into WWII,
and the masses of human beings with families and wishes who
should not have been treated as they were. But is this the way to do that?
Won’t our next generation have a debt to pay the Palestinians?
Perhaps you want Americans to feel safe from Arabs. But aren’t we
more afraid?
Again, I do not know, and I am sure it is complicated.

Perhaps we should make it simple again.
I will make a few things
simple for you.
I do not support any violence Palestinians inflict, on anyone.
I do not support any violence Israelis inflict, on anyone.
I do not support any violence Americans inflict, on anyone.
I do not support any violence any humans inflict, on anyone.
I do support the kindness of Israelis. The kindness of Arabs.
The kindness of Americans. The kindness of humanity.
I do not want tax money that comes from my paycheck, that I
have earned in peaceable ways, to go toward the systematic
destruction of lives, those of Arabs or Israelis or Americans.
When we are no longer inspired by the humanity of our neighbors,
something has been destroyed. Many Israelis have been destroyed,
as they destroy Palestinians. And the United States pays for this.
Is that being a good friend?

This is the United States’ conflict. We are involved.
This, quite simply, must stop.
Mr. President, what have you done this week to bring peace
among Israel, Palestine, and the United States?
I will ask again next week. And the week after that. Like the mother
in Bethlehem who will wait 500 years for her son’s prison sentence to end,
I will keep asking, until we are free. Until we have peace.
Salaam, Peace, Shalom.


Respectfully and with great hope,

Kohleun A.

tears

Jesus wept. (John 11:35)

Tears on a Sunday

Hot
Scalding
Risen unbidden
For those left behind

A steady stream of out of focus faces

Bathed in them, immersed in them
Scorched by them
Scorned by them
As by the Ghibhilli Wind raging beyond the window

Each tear drop contains an image
Split
A twain-ness of opposites
OF what IS and what still MIGHT BE

Christ, too, weeps within and behind me
His hands secured to wood cannot reach them.

But mine can in His name.

-Rev. Maria Shepherdson
From Both Sides Now: Auschwitz to Palestine

As he approached Jerusalem and saw the city,
he wept over it. (Luke 19:41)

(the church built to commemorate Christ's weeping)

Impressions of Jerusalem

I visited Jerusalem this past June (2007). It was an amazing experience, very intense and emotionally draining.

One of the people I went with is a cultural anthropologist who lives in the Middle East, and teaches courses on Muslim-Christian interaction.
He also happens to be my father. :)

Here are some of his impressions from the time:

"Jerusalem is an interesting, intense, fascinating, exciting, sad, and distressing city.

"I visited there for the second time (the first was in winter '01) last week. A number of things stood out to me on this visit:

• There are lots of people - Muslims, Jews, and Christians - who are very serious about their religious faith and practice, and who find Jerusalem a key place to be. You see Christians carrying large crosses through the Old City, following the Via Dolorosa (way of the Cross), worshiping and praying; and you have churches and sites that claim to be places associated with Jesus, like the Church of the Holy Sepulchre and the Garden Tomb. You see devout Jews at the Wailing Wall, bobbing and praying. You see Muslims everywhere, and hear the call to prayer 5 times a day; and the Dome of the Rock and Al Aqsa Mosque are the 3rd holiest site in Islam. On the one hand, I think, wow, it's amazing that all of these people are seeking God, and of course they should be free to pursue their pursuit. On the other I think, it's awful that people are fighting and killing each other over their faith, and the conflicting claims (e.g., on particular territory, like the temple mount or the city itself) of their faith.

• You see Israeli soldiers and security, carrying guns, everywhere. You also see plainclothed people carrying automatic weapons - the settlers, who have the right to bear arms. It was rather unsettling to see the Jewish settlers walking through the Arab Old City with automatic weapons - can you imagine whites in African-American Detroit, carrying automatic weapons as they promote a white supremist ideology...?

• You see Israeli flags throughout the Old City, representing houses that have been taken and "settled" from Arabs - colonial outposts, as part of the Israeli plan to take over the Old City and drive the Arabs out. (There is a Jewish quarter in the Old City, but the settlements in the Arab quarters, both Muslim and Christian, is another matter.)

• We saw a large (hundreds) group of Israeli settlers demonstrate in the Muslim quarter. Under heavy police protection, holding back the Arabs, they sang and danced and marched around. Apparently, from what we were told, they do this 1-2x per month, and are saying pro-Jewish and anti-Arab things (the atmosphere felt to us like, "we are here, and this city is ours, and we will have it").

• Jerusalem has been cut off from the rest of the West Bank, even nearby Bethlehem (only 15 min. away). The only Arabs who currently have access to Jerusalem are those that Israel has recognized as residents of Jerusalem. Others, though their lives in the past involved regular coming and going from Jerusalem, and their families are both outside and inside of Jerusalem, are now cut off. In other words, Arabs from Ramallah or Bethlehem, or anywhere else outside of Jerusalem, cannot visit Jerusalem, even if they have family there. Among other things, this separates both Muslim and Christian Palestinians from their holy sites, on any and all occasions.

• As part of the squeezing of the (Arab) population in Jerusalem and elsewhere, there are now heavy taxes on Palestinian goods entering Jerusalem from the West Bank. This is driving up prices and hurting business. We noticed a significant increase in prices from 6 years ago.

• We visited Yad Vashem, the Holocaust Museum. It's an experience. It helps you to understand the survival mentality of Israelis, and the high value placed on security. At the same time, knowing as we do the suffering of the Palestinians at the hands of the Israelis (stolen land, demolished houses, imprisonment, interrogation, torture, encirclement by the wall, etc.), Yad Vashem now stirs in us the sentiment, "how can people who went through what the Jews went through in Europe, do what they are doing to the Palestinians?"

"These are all impressions. Jerusalem stirs up so many powerful and somewhat difficult emotions. I was reading Jimmy Carter's "Palestine: Peace not Apartheid," while on this trip, which added poignancy to the visit. I would highly recommend the book."

-June 2007