Blood Brothers

About a year and a half ago, my dad co-founded a non-profit organization to educate faith-based American leaders about the Israel-Palestine conflict. About once every two months, he takes influential American leaders over to the Holy Land, giving them a tour much richer than a typical pilgrimage to ancient, empty sites. The group meets with people of all different backgrounds- Israeli-Arabs, Jewish Israelis, Palestinian Muslims, Palestinian Christians. Government officials, non-profit owners, wealthy businessmen, community-center owners, farmers, workers. By the end of the week, the goal is to understand that each side has its rights and wrongs, has been wronged, has a claim to the land… and that taking one side or the other is detrimental and only serves to further the conflict.

I went on such a trip with my Dad this summer, eager to see what he does when he’s gone. I've seen the pictures he's taken, and heard the stories he's told, but none of the names or faces seemed real to me: they were just stories. The problem seemed distant to me, a high schooler who's more concerned about my social life than social injustice. But I was interested, if only because my dad has dedicated years to this and truly cares about the people embroiled in this conflict. We would go to Nazareth and Haifa in Galilee, Nablus, Romallah, Jerusalem, Hebron, and Bethlehem, all in a week, both in Israel and the West Bank.

Having next to no background knowledge on the subject, Dad gave me “homework” before I left: two documentaries (which I have yet to watch), and a book: Blood Brothers, by Elias Chacour. I started on the book first, thinking it was more portable, and therefore I could get it over with quickly. But once I started, I was mesmerized. Blood Brothers is no boring history of Israel for the past sixty years- instead, it’s the personal story of now Archbishop Elias Chacour, a Palestinian Christian who’s village of Biram was evacuated by the Israeli army in the late 1940s, and who has tirelessly worked for peace between Israelis and Palestinians for his whole life. It’s a fairly balanced perspective, neither pro-Israeli or pro-Palestinian (although it leans a bit towards Palestinians). After reading it, I was in awe of the life Chacour has lead, of the difference he had made in his community of Ibillin, on the thinking of others, and of his forgiveness of the Israelis, Mandela-like in it’s magnanimity. Imagine my excitement when I was told we would meet him Monday, our very first day in Israel!

Clutching Blood Brothers, I boarded the bus with the rest of the group, assuring them how much I admired Chacour, how amazing Blood Brothers was, and how excited I was to meet him. We drove from Nazareth to Haifa, a beautiful town by the Sea of Galilee. There, we entered a cool marble house, ascended the stairs to a large meeting room, and sat in wait of Chacour.

His entrance was modest, quietly shaking hands with the members of the group, but his words were anything but. His manner of speaking was surprising for an Archbishop: he’s witty, outspoken- sassy, in essence, although that isn’t a typical description of an Archbishop! He spoke clearly to us of the need for our solidarity in America. “If you have come here to be pro-Palestinian or pro-Israeli, if you have come here to take sides, I hope you have a nice trip, enjoy your time, but go home and don’t do us any more harm. But if you’ve come here and are willing to stand in solidarity with both, we need your help. Come be pro-Palestinian and pro-Israeli.”

This is most of the group with Archbishop Chacour; he is the one standing next to me, in the middle.

This actually sums up the entire trip, the purpose behind the work my dad does. It was a great way to kick off the point of views we were yet to hear; the touchstone and solid foundation to which we would compare everything we heard from this point forward. And believe me, when so many different views are all compelling and all logical, it becomes very difficult to sort out everything. For instance:

In Ramallah, a West Bank town where many higher Palestinian officials are based, we met with Hanan Ashrawi, a remarkable woman who has fought for women’s rights for years and years, who is very knowledgeable and influential not only in her own country, but in the USA (she also has a Ph.D. from the University of Virginia!). She talked at length of the difficulties women in the Gaza strip have as the government now requires women to cover their heads when they go out in public, and how the public is resentful. She talked of the need for a two-state solution, that the USA must help in negotiations by supporting Israel and Palestine, by encouraging both sides to enter into negotiation there. And she spoke of how the basic human dignity of the Palestinians is violated by the Israeli military occupation of the Palestinian Territories. Ashrawi was compelling, feminine and powerful. She shared with us the stories of her children, who had been raised there but went to the USA for college. One of her daughters married while in America, and while pregnant, wanted to go back home to visit her parents. The Israelis refused to give her a visa, saying that "Jerusalem was no longer the center of her life," even though she had grown up there, her entire family lived there, it was her home, her ancestors had lived there- but because she was away for four years, she was not allowed back.

Two days later, we met with Dani Dyan, the head of the YESHA council, or the settler movement, in Jerusalem at the famous King David Hotel. After Israel took control of the West Bank and Gaza in the 1967 Six Day War, Israelis began moving into these areas and establishing "settlements," which essentially makes a two-state solution difficult. There are settlements deep in the West Bank, and the problem of what to do with them is one of the biggest obstacles to a two-state solution. A town called Hebron in the West Bank is a good example of this. For centuries, Jews and Arabs lived together in Hebron, a town of deep significance to both because this is where the Tomb of Abraham, Sarah, Isaac, Rebekah, Jacob and Leah are all located. When European Jews, with different customs, dress, and languages began arriving there in the early 1900s tensions arose. In 1927, there was a false rumor that Jews were trying to take over the Temple Mount in Jerusalem. Hearing this, several Palestinians in the Hebron area turned on the Jews of Hebron and brutally massacred 67 of them in 1927. The Jews left the village, but returned decades later, after the 1967 War, reclaiming the land of their forefathers who were murdered. About 60 families now live in the center of the town, at the cost of shutting down around 1,000 Palestinian shops, and creating streets which only Jews can be on. The town is, in effect, run by the Israeli army, divided cleanly between Jewish settlers and Palestinian. To get to the Palestinian parts of town, we had to go through a "checkpoint," meaning our passports were checked by the military and we had to walk through a scanner.

A sign we walked by in the Jewish part of Hebron which speaks clearly of the tension in Hebron.

There is a deep contrast between the Palestinian and Jewish parts of Hebron: The Jewish section is large, empty streets and empty shops. But the Palestinian section is crammed with cars, people, markets. There are no tourist-y things in the markets there: no one comes to that part of town. We walked through the markets, and stopped at this place:

Above the market, bricks and chairs and bottles the Jewish settlers have thrown down on the Palestinians

This screen is above the marketplace, filled with rocks, bricks, trash, and even old lawn chairs that the Jewish settlers have thrown down on the Palestinian markets. The screen doesn't catch everything, though. The settlers will throw hot oil, urine, and acid on the markets.

It was one of the most tense situations I've ever been in. I came away full of horror at the idea that children grow up in this environment of hatred and violence- what kind of a childhood is one where you are taught to hate your neighbors? How can a child grow up with acids and rocks being thrown at him, with soldiers regulating which side of the street he walks on, with check points and walls, and not grow up hating Israel? How can a child be taught that his neighbors killed his ancestors, that they are dirty murderers, that he should throw things at them because they aren't people, they're less than that, and not grow up hating Palestinians? How can you subject a child to such a grown-up issue?

A Palestinian shop, shut down and graffitied by the Jewish settlers in Hebron

We met with the settlements leader Dani Dyan right after visiting Hebron. His point of view was different from what we had heard thus far on the trip, but an important one, since it is shared by many. He was charismatic and firmly believed what he said. He didn't think the two state solution was possible or even needed: Israel had taken this land, and the Palestinians had no prior claim to it. Another very valid obstacle to the two state solution is the history of Palestinian terrorism and suicide bombing. How can Israel trust the Palestinian government to keep every single terrorist under control when the West Bank is a pressure-cooker of hatred and violence? The overwhelming majority of Palestinians don't want a war, it's true, and would do everything in it's power to avoid one, but it seems unavoidable that someone would slip through. But in talking of the possibility of a one-state solution, the ideas of birth rates and majorities were brought up. Israel wants a Jewish majority state, but Arab birth rates are higher than Jewish birthrates, and it is predicted that Arabs will be a majority soon. When pressed as to whether he would prefer to have a democratic rule in Israel, or a majority Jewish state, he dismissed it easily, saying that he believed there would not be an Arab majority. When the origin of the conflict was discussed, he maintained a firm stand that the fault of the conflict was all the Palestinians: that the Palestinians simply acted irrationally when their land was invaded. Frankly, it seemed as if he has created a universe in which Arabs practically don't even exist!

But of all the things he said, the point that resonated with me, and that we heard so often in every Israeli perspective was that in a two-state solution, Israel could not trust Palestine on it's own. The suicide bombings show the utter desperation of some Palestinians to make their cause known, but using this reprehensible and entirely unjustifiable tactic has undermined their cause and made the possibility of peace so difficult! So many Israelis were affected by the suicide bombings to the extent that everyone has a story, either of themselves or of someone they know, in a suicide bombing. Israel's greatest challenge in the peace talks will be to trust Palestine with an airport and a police force and some kind of sovereignty; the challenge for Palestinians is to earn that trust.

Friday nights in Jerusalem are unusually silent and peaceful, no cars or buses driving by. This is because of the holy Sabbath, the shabbat. For our shabbat, the group went to a local synagogue for services. The rooms were crowded with all ages, from the elderly to toddlers, all singing beautiful traditional Jewish songs of worship. Everyone knows these songs by heart, sings them all together in one beautiful, shouting chorus of praise and harmony. After the service, we split up into groups of two and ate the special shabbat meal with members of the synagogue. My dad and I ate with a family originally from New York, who were incredibly welcoming and gracious in opening their home and delicious meal to us! It was one of my favorite nights of the trip, as we discussed their everyday lives in the midst of conflict. Their devout faith resonated deeply throughout the evening: God was so real to them, and the complex rituals of the dinner were so important to them because of their deep symbolism. They were not simply going through the motions; they were thinking of what they did. It was a night of much laughter, delicious food, fascinating religious discussion, and stories of everyday life. They are a family I will never forget.

We met with many others: Danny ben Simon, a member of the Israeli Knesset, or parliament, Munib Masri, a wealthy Palestinian employer, Nassir, a Nablus architect who ran a cultural center, two American Consulate officers, two journalists, Danny Seidemann, an expert on Jerusalem, the Latin Patriarch of Jerusalem, and many others. Of all these, however, some that I feel I must share with you are the Christians we met. We spent a day with the Christians in Bethlehem, and the work they are doing there is not only amazing, but vital to all people there. Christian presence is dwindling in the Holy Land as young Christians leave to seek safer homes or better opportunities. As our friend Danny Seidemann, said, "The Christian community is like the canary in the coal mine. If the Christian community is ill, we are all ill. We just don't know it yet." However, the Christians remaining are zealous and dedicated, a vital influence in the dark days of occupation.

We visited Bethlehem Bible College in Bethlehem and heard of the work they're doing in the community, educating Christians and Muslims alike, preparing Christians for a very real vocation in the Holy Land. They just added a new building, with classrooms and a theater, to be shared with the community around them. It's a great ministry of love that's really neat to hear about. Directly from there, we visited Sister Sophie's orphanage, next to the Sisters of Charity Hospital, filled with beautiful babies from 2 months old to 5 years old. Sister Sophie loves these children, as do all the people who work there. They are so committed to creating a loving environment and finding a loving home for every child. It's vital work, requiring a lot of sacrifice- on the day we visited, the orphanage had been without running water for 25 days, as had many others in Bethlehem, due to the fact that water will shut off unexpectedly there. In the heat of August, water is vital, and they don't have easy access to it.

The group with Sister Sophie at the orphanage.

Sister Sophie and I.

From Sister Sophie's, we went to the International Center of Bethlehem to meet with Mitri Raheb, pastor of the Christmas Church in Bethlehem, and founder of the International Center of Bethlehem. The Center is devoted to creating an outlet for the community, and teaches arts like theater, music, dance, painting, etc to Christians and Muslims, too. In fact, a young waiter at our hotel, bright and excited, happened to mention that his hobby was making stained glass, a skill he had learned at the Center!

We visited a school for troubled girls, run by the Sisters of Charity, on the Mount of Olives outside Jerusalem. The girls all live nearby, but when the Wall was built, it cut off many students from their families and volunteers from their homes. Where before, they could easily move back and forth, they now have to go through a checkpoint every day, which could take hours or minutes, unpredictably. But one of the biggest problems is the proximity of the Wall. Extending out from the Wall, there is a "military zone," that soldiers watch constantly. They don't know how far the zone extends, but their property is close enough that soldiers could be on their property at anytime, even engaging in combat there. The girls' playground is right next to the Wall, and it is in the "military zone" as well. These are the difficulties the Christians are faced with on an everyday basis.

The Wall, just outside the playground for the young girls.

Two final examples of the Christians in the Holy Land: First, Father (Abuna) Firas, our friend who joined my family in Wyoming on vacation earlier this summer. He operates in Jifna, a West Bank town near Ramallah. Originally from Jordan, he knew he wanted to be a priest at age 12, and so journeyed to the Holy Land. He has a parish in Jifna, and has started a school there, St. Joseph's Parish School, for K-8. His school is funded in part by the Holy Land Christian Society, and even has a computer lab! Father Firas is full of energy, runs everywhere, and has accomplished so much during his short time in Jifna. He is full of zeal for God's work and full of love for the people of Jifna.

We then met with Daoud Nassir, a gentle farmer who is currently fighting for ownership of his farmland, the land his family has lived on for hundreds of years. He runs a non-profit called "Tent of Nations" on his farm, running summer camps for kids, offering a place for foreign groups to stay and help on the farm, etc. He has faced much hatred from the Israeli army and settlements surrounding the farm, but he lives by the phrase "We refuse to be enemies," and treats everyone he meets with gentle respect- a Christlike example of peace in a time so divided and torn. He faces many challenges: his court case about his land has been going on for nearly 2 decades. Once, a group of angry Jewish settlers came to his farm in the middle of the night and uprooted 250 olive trees. But Daoud isn't discouraged or retributive. God provides for him: a Jewish human rights group from Europe read of the olive trees and came to plant 250 new ones! His work is to love everyone, regardless of faith or nationality, and it is changing people's lives. A few Jewish settlers have even come to meet him at gatherings he hosts at his house, and have come away simply astounded at his love.

The outreach of the church is astounding; it is an example of the truth that under persecution and oppression, the church blossoms. The church truly lives by the ideals of faith, hope, and love.

Faith in God, in His plan and His mercy and His protection.

Hope for an end to the conflict and peace.

And Love for all: Israelis, Palestinians, Arabs, Jews, Muslims, Christians, and soldiers, living together in the Holy Land.

Truly, these are the ingredients for peace in the Holy Land.