HumilityHumility. In the Golden City of Jerusalem, humility drifted in my ears and made my soul shiver at sunset, as I looked out at the Dome of the Rock and Al-Aqsa Mosque, hearing the most beautiful azaan (Arab-Muslim call to prayer). I submitted body and mind at the Dome of the Rock, the third holiest site in Islam. I prayed towards Mecca under the very spot where Mohammed ascended to heaven with angel Gabriel. I witnessed humility as Jewish men and women bowed their heads at the Western Wall, submitting their souls to God, slipping letters in the cracks of the Temple Mount. So to did humility manifest itself at the Church of the Holy Seplichur as scores of Christians from all over the world knelt and touched their heads on a cold slab of rock upon which Christ's body rested after his crucifixion. In Jerusalem, one may find humility in different forms, different languages, upon different rocks, and yet, these things and rituals and languages are towards the same end... within these same archaic city walls. Paradoxically, twenty minuets away, one of the world's oldest and bloodiest conflicts rages on .
HumiliationI take a small bus filled with Palestinians towards Ramallah in the West Bank. I actually had no plan, other than to engage with some Palestinians, and to see some of the Palestinian side for myself. Just 15-minuets outside Jerusalem, one begins to see settlement after settlement of Israeli homes. The welcoming scenery of Jerusalem gives way to a vast 25 ft concrete wall decorated with barbed wire. This is the 'security wall' which the Israeli government alleges is a necessary construction to protect Israelis from suicide attacks by Palestinian militants. This is also the same security wall that the International Court of Justice concluded violates international law. The Red Cross and the Physicians for Human Rights-Israel concluded that the security wall would deny 1/3 of West Bank villages access to healthcare, and prevent up to 130,000 children form being immunized, and deny 100,000 pregnant Palestinian women access to health-care.
I think back to a day before when I was kept at the Israeli border for 5 hours because I had a Muslim name and was questioned by rude soldiers who humiliated me as if I done something wrong simply by bearing a Muslim name. I had an American passport, and yet my American-Christian friends got through with no problem. That was humiliation enough. Yet, I felt sick as we drove from Jerusalem to West Bank and the wall kept outpacing us. It is one massive art exhibit, where artists, out of protest, have painted on the dreary concrete prison imaginary beautiful ornate doors, free Palestine slogans, question marks, beaches, and peace signs.
This wall possibly deters some militants in the short term, but it most certainly punishes, collectivity, both Israeli and Palestinian societies in the long term, thus imposing a state of helplessness and humiliation that in fact breeds terrorism. Additionally, future generations of Palestinians will be alienated from knowing Israelis as human beings, and so to will generations of Israelis be barred from interacting with the people of the West Bank. Upon my return from Ramallah I would feel humiliated myself when on the bus back to Jerusalem we were forced off and made to walk within caged corridors for Arabs. Young Israeli soldiers sang 'Your Beautiful' by James Blunt as they jokingly locked me within one of the steel turnstile gates for 10 seconds. As disheartening as the security wall and the ride back to Jerusalem were, it was in Ramallah, upon interacting with the Palestinian people that I felt hope.
HOPEAs a naïve American I was very nervous and scared to go to Ramallah in the West Bank. The images I am so accustomed to of masked Palestinian militants with AK-47s, and young boys burning American flags, left me uncomfortable. In many ways I had subconsciously predetermined what my nearing visit to the West Bank would be like. How stupid of me that was.
As soon as I got off the bus I am befriended by an American woman who got married to a Palestinian Fulbright Scholar in the 1970s at Arizona State. She has voluntarily lived in the West Bank for the last 20 years. I was shocked. I asked her "why would you leave America for Palestine? What have your friends and family said?" She invited me for ice cream in the city center of Ramallah and it is there that she told me to look around. I did, and found myself in a thriving city of young and old, liberal and conservative, enduring, living, working, playing. She told me how easily we in America buy into the stereotypes of what Palestine is and what its people are like, thereby legitimizing our dehumanization of them because of our own walls. I wander towards the city center and meet some Palestinian youth painting signs marking the 61st year of Israel's occupation of Palestine. 61 years of failed leadership in Palestine by Hamas and Fatah, and the broken promises by Arab governments. But the youth are holding on to hope for peace and for happiness. They guessed I was American. I grew nervous, yet, I had nothing to be nervous about. They greeted me with open arms and expressed how happy they were that someone from the outside made an effort to come to Ramallah and meet Palestinians. They humbly referred to the city center of Ramallah as 'Little New York'. Most of the men and children I spoke with had come from refugee camps and now call Ramallah their home. On this point I was surprised how safe, and lively Ramallah was. It was confusing to be in such a thriving city facing an uncertain political future. One man described to me how Ramallah was the only light in Palestine being that nearby Gaza remained in ruins and under constant threat. 1,400 Palestinians died next door not too long ago as the result of Hamas rocket fire into Israel and Israel's 22 day attack on Gaza. 900 of the 1,400 Palestinians killed were civilians, including 300 children and 115 women. Israel has called these "professional mistakes". 13 Israelis, including 3 civilians were killed as a result of Hamas rocket fire. (Earlier this month, a leading independent human rights organization, Amnesty International, released a report accusing Israel of war crimes for using highly accurate weaponry to target civilians and deliberately destroy what little infrastructure Gazans had.) The children and young men walk me back to my bus and kiss me goodbye. They thank me for visiting and I cannot help but feeling apologetic for how misunderstood they are by the international community. Looking back on it, I think the older kids sensed my guilt. They were all smiles and asked only for my prayers for their dream to become a reality one day and for the fighting to stop.
That is what I saw. The right wing Israelis may call me anti-Israel, anti-Semitic, even though I support Israel's right to security and right to defend herself. The right wing Arabs may call me a Zionist supporter, even though I stand by the right of Palestinians to have their property and human rights protected. Call me what you want. I saw what I saw. I heard what I heard. And that was humility, humiliation, and hope.