From Jerusalem

If you havn’t been reading all along, I suggest that you scroll back a few days and begin with the earlier parts of From Jerusalem. 

 I look back from this interim at my six months in the center of the world and I perhaps begin to tire of the endless politics, the endless world shattering events, and of the endless tension.  I know that it is not my place to tire after only six months in Jerusalem. There are millions who spend their lives in the pressure cooker, doing those bits of good and affecting their own histories under the watchful eye of the world. This is all they know. But Jerusalem is a long ways from Flint, Michigan. It is a different animal; it is wildly different. I am six months in now, and I hope that I may now have in my possession six months of understanding of the Middle East. This understanding does not come alone or for free. With the gift of understanding, I have also gained a lifetime of confusion, questions, and morale queries that pertain to this region and life generally. I am no longer in the Shire, and I have eaten from the tree. Regretfully the world is no longer simply for me. Black isn’t any longer black, and white is no longer white. I still believe in absolutes, and right and wrong, and good and evil but it’s so hard to determine which is which these days. These musings, in which you have joined me, represent the beginnings of both this, my understanding, and this my confusion. From Jerusalem, six months to go.

From Jerusalem Cont

Israeli Politics    Three political events have defined Israel since my arrival. The first is the retraction of settlers from the Gaza Strip, the second is the failed health of Sharon, the third is the historic Palestinian election of Hamas.In order to understand the pullout from
Gaza, I had to once again step through the looking glass. Politics nearly obscures the reality of what the ‘disengagement.’ The world watched, intoxicated by the river of tears and the rising dust of bulldozed houses. Kepara Lecha! We sacrifice ourselves to you! And the world nearly forgot that all countries, including Palestine, and Israel, act for their own interest. This is not an accusation, merely an observation. It took a publication by my colleague, Shir Hever, the senior writer for the Economy of the Occupation for the Alternate Information Center, in order for me to fully understand the ‘disengagement.’ The Gaza strip wasn’t a gift to the Palestinian people. It wasn’t a kind gesture. It was decision that was based purely upon political and economic gain. Is this surprising? Not to me. This isn’t Christmas, and Arial Sharon certainly isn’t Santa Claus. Nations like people, do work rationally in their own self interest. This is their nature. It’s just what they do. Among the self interested reasons for Israel’s’ retreat was that the maintenance of the strip had become too costly. I discovered one night as I drank vodka in the lobby of the Radisson Hotel across the street from my apartment that many of the Gush Katif evacuees were my neighbors. I talked to some of the kids and they impressed upon me their bitterness. They feel that their country has turned their back on them and that their President (Sharon), who once supported their endeavors, had unapologetically ripped them from their homes, livelihoods, and land. They didn’t want to talk about the vast compensation system that (according to some reports) had made them wealthy.  They would only express that their country had left them homeless with nothing.  As one who is religious, and who is studying religion, I empathize. They had been following passionately the calling of their G-d of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. They were standing in the gap for their nation. He had promised them this land and they were following him in the costly proposition of taking it. They don’t say it, but do they wonder if He too, the One who gave them the land has turned His back on them?             The country mourns the loss of a great political mind and a leader, in the ailing health of Arial Sharon. Beyond individual opinions of Sharon’s policies, the man has redefined politics in modern Israel. I of course am just a tourist in the land; I have little knowledge of Israeli politics beyond what I read in the Jerusalem Post and Haaretz from my hilltop apartment. I only write from the ripples I see in the spheres in which I travel. With the loss of Sharon, there were some who expected political chaos. However, it seems that in his absence we have had greater order than in his presence. Already the country stages for the fulfillment of promised withdrawals from Hebron, and Almona. These are not courageous new steps by the Olmert Government but only the fulfillment of Sharon’s earlier promise to evacuate illegal settlements. Dare I ask, ‘Had he but courage equal to desire?’ The loss of Sharon has been tragic, and I with much of the world I hope for his recovery, yet I only suggest that perhaps it is now time for Israel to be led by someone who does not carry the weight of history so squarely on his shoulder.The Palestinian’s election of Hamas has been the third political upheaval during my time here. On election day we took the Arab bus down into East Jerusalem to obvserve. Camped out in front of the Herod’s gate was of course the world’s press corp. spreading the news of the few million people that live in this tiny state, to the entire world. At the post office where the  ballots were cast, there was an excited mob of youth waving flags and chanting the slogans of their favored candidates for the parliamentary election. The international monitors being interviewed before our eyes reported a fair election. The global debate about this election concerned the entrance into the political realm of a faction whose unapologetic hands dripped with the blood of innocents.  A shockwave spread through Israel and the world as we slowly began to hear of the news. Whispers in the hall at school, and a flurry of text messages…Hamas won, Hamas won, Hamas won!  The days following the elections have been filled with the experts and the politicians scrambling for answers. The Post ran four pages of articles on the election, all of which said nothing. The face of the crisis has now shifted, but in the words of the ancient Jewish Philosopher and Author of Ecclesiastes, ‘there is nothing new under the sun.’ The politicians from both sides will continue to wrangle, lies will be told, and people will be hurt. The people who are good will continue to do good, and those who are evil will continue in their evil. There is push and pull and this victory, in my view is not a set back as some fear. It is merely the next step.

Passport to the Promised Land

some huge exaggerations but nonetheless interesting

…http://www.hillsdale.edu/collegian091406/default.asp?sect=lifestyles&item=passport_to2

If you havn’t been reading all along, I suggest that you scroll back a few days and begin with the earlier parts of From Jerusalem. 

Muqata            In the days before the rule of Hamas we traveled the West Bank freely: Jenin, Nablus, Jericho, and Ramallah.  I already loved the Jewish people, and still do, but it was in Ramallah that I began to love the Palestinians as well.  We wandered the city, even at night, and despite the ominous posters beckoning the young to violently give their blood in the intifada, we as gentiles, and some Jews pretending to be Gentiles, felt welcome. Many warm faces invited us with gestures of friendship for the traditional steaming cup of sweet tea. Some of our number would claim they were from Canada but I never have. I trust that my presence in their land will be enough to break their stereo-types.  Muqata, the former seat of the Palestinian Authority, and the final resting place of Yassir Arafat, lies on the outskirts of Ramallah. We traveled out to see the place that was etched into our memories from the heavy damages that it took in its role in second intifada fighting. We entered the compound, cautious of what we would find on the other side of the earth and barbed wire barriers.  I found a familiar sight on the inside. Soldier’s feet were moving in rhythm to cadences under the hot sun on a giant tarmac. Their drill calls were in Arabic, and their rifles from the World Wars, but otherwise the drilled the same exercises on which I spent my summer  in Quantico.  In the middle of the tarmac lies a glass structure called in Arabic Muqata. There lies the grave of Yassir Arafat the former leader of the Palestinian people. We entered the tomb and paid are respects.  There lay memorial wreaths and cards from nations from the nations of the world. A pretty sight, but I had to remind myself that that Arafat was a terrorist and an evil man. With time however, his symbol begins to transcend the reality of his life. We took pictures and spoke kind words to the soldiers who were keeping guard. This was my first experience with the Palestinian Authority.  I was to have many more.