A Message from Rabbi Maurice (August, 2006)

In June I participated in a seminar called the Summer Peacebuilding Institute (SPI) of Eastern Mennonite University (EMU) in Harrisonburg, Virginia. Students included Muslims, Christians, Buddhists, and others, from all over the world. During SPI I met a Palestinian Muslim from Bethlehem called Husam. Husam holds a Masters in Conflict Trans-formation and has trained about 600 Palestinians in techniques of nonviolent activism. Knowing that Melissa and I were heading for Israel after the seminar, I asked Husam if we could visit his home in the West Bank.

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Summer in a Place of Suffering

A couple weeks later, Melissa and I crossed the imposing check-point from Jerusalem to Bethlehem on foot. We were overwhelmed by the security wall – about 20 feet high in that area. We visited a refugee camp, Christian holy sites, and the souk (open market). Husam then took us to have lunch at the home of Eugene’s own Ibrahim Hamide’s sister, Samiha. The food was so good it rivaled the delicious dishes at Ibrahim’s restau-rant, Café Soriah. We especially bonded with Ibrahim’s niece, Khuloud, a teacher who recently participated in a wonderful program called Seeds of Peace  (www.seedsofpeace.org). 

The day was a small taste of life for West Bank Palestinians. We witnessed many inconveniences, humiliations, and personal limitations on the general popu-lation that would make any American hopping mad. I’ll be honest with you, as a Jewish tourist with total freedom of movement it was hard to witness. If the wall, the checkpoints and the restrictions on movement were being imposed solely to save Israeli lives from suicide bombers, I could understand the reasoning behind these measures. However some of these restrictions are not in place to facilitate Israeli security, but rather to enable the growth of new Jewish settlements in the West Bank, like Har Homa, which sits on a hill in plain view of Bethlehem. At one point during our conversation, Husam told me that if the Israelis were building the wall on their side of the Green Line he would have no problem with it. But as it is the wall goes well into the West Bank, hugging north-ern and western Bethlehem, closing down an urban neighborhood that used to thrive with business, and restricting Bethlehem’s urban growth, while Jewish settlements have sprouted on nearby West Bank land. 

A few days later, Melissa and I discussed our visit to Bethlehem with some of our Israeli relatives. The most poignant conversation we had was with one cousin - let’s call him David. Last time we went to Israel, David was a high schooler dreaming of becoming a fire-fighter. This time, we didn’t even recognize David. His facial hair was gone - no eyebrows or eyelashes. His head was a checkerboard of patches of skin and closely cropped stubble. We wondered if he’d had chemotherapy. 

Not the case. According to relatives, David experienced some kind of trauma in the army, and the hair loss began (possibly alopecia areata - though whether this is triggered by stress is debated). When Melissa mentioned Bethlehem, David shared that he had done army check-point duty. At first he talked about it with machismo, but soon he admitted it was very frightening. He described an incident in which he helped ap-prehend a suicide-bomber wearing an explosive belt, and another in which he was physically ambushed by Palestinians whom he believed were trying to kidnap him. His attitude was hardened. He made disparaging jokes about Arabs, and described retaliating against rock-throwing youths by beat-ing them up. The excited young teen who once bubbled with stories about wanting to be a fireman was now on military disability leave due to PTSD (Post-traumatic Stress Disorder). He was cynical, completely distrustful of Arabs, and only 9 or 20 years old. I couldn’t help but think about how different his life is from the lives our Talmud Torah students lead when they turn 20. 

It’s hard to conclude a piece like this on a resolving note. Melissa and I would like to share more about our experiences with the TBI community in the months ahead. 

May the Source of Compassion help all of us to feel compassion for the suffering that all in Israel and Palestine are experiencing, because the suffering on both sides is immense. And may we advocate for peacebuilding in that part of the world as best our consciences guide us.

L’shalom, Rabbi Maurice

P.S. I highly recommend the Summer Peacebuilding Institute to TBI’s members. You don’t have to be clergy to attend. For more information, contact me or visit: www.emu.edu/ctp/spi.