U.S. prof. who says Jews abuse Holocaust to curb critics resigns
By The Associated Press
Ha'aretz -- Thursday - September 6, 2007
A Chicago university professor who has drawn criticism for accusing some Jews of abusing the legacy of the Holocaust agreed Wednesday to resign immediately "for everybody's sake."
DePaul University officials and political science professor Norman Finkelstein issued a joint statement announcing the resignation, which came as about a hundred protesters gathered outside the dean's office to support him.
Finkelstein, who is the son of Holocaust survivors, was denied tenure in June after spending six years on DePaul's faculty. His remaining class was cut by DePaul last month.His most recent book, Beyond Chutzpah: On the Misuse of Anti-Semitism and the Abuse of History, is largely an attack on Harvard law professor Alan Dershowitz's The Case for Israel. In his book, Finkelstein argues that Israel uses perceived anti-Semitism as a weapon to stifle criticism.
Dershowitz, who threatened to sue Finkelstein's publisher for libel, urged DePaul officials to reject Finkelstein's tenure bid.Finkelstein said in the statement that he believes the tenure decision was tainted by external pressures, but praised the university's "honorable role of providing a scholarly haven for me the past six years."The school denied that outside parties influenced the decision to deny Finkelstein tenure. The school's portion of the statement called Finkelstein a prolific scholar and an outstanding teacher.
Finkelstein called that acknowledgment the most important part of the statement."I felt finally I had gotten what was my due and that maybe it was time, for everybody's sake, that I move on," he said at a news conference that followed a morning rally staged by students and faculty who carried signs and chanted "stop the witch hunt."Finkelstein added: "DePaul students rose to dazzling spiritual heights in my defense that should be the envy of and an example for every university in the United States."
The professor would not discuss financial terms of the resignation agreement, which he said was confidential, but noted that it does not bar him from speaking out about issues that concern him, including the unfairness of the tenure process.
He also said he does not know what he will do next, but came to realize before Wednesday that "the atmosphere had become so poisoned that it was virtually impossible for me to carry on at DePaul. The least I could hope for is to leave DePaul with my head up high and my reputation intact."
Dershowitz was critical of the school. "DePaul looks like they caved into pressure," he said in a telephone interview. "The idea of describing him as a scholar trades truth for convenience. He's a man who is a propagandist and is not a scholar."
Still, Dershowitz said, "I'm happy he's out of academia. Let him do his ranting on street corners."
http://www.haaretz.com/hasen/pages/ShArtVty.jhtml?sw=Normal+Finkelstein&itemNo=901583
Saturday, September 8, 2007
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
Jewish/Muslim Dialogue. Yes
RABBI PRESSES JEWS, MUSLIMS TO EASE STRIFE
By Manya A. Brachear
Chicago Tribune
September 1, 2007
In an unusual goodwill gesture, the top rabbi of the nation's largest Jewish movement pleaded with American Muslims on Friday to transcend the differences that have divided their people for decades and join Jews to confront the extremist factions and prejudice that plague both religious traditions.
"It is ... our collective task to strengthen and inspire one another as we fight the fanatics and work to promote the values of justice and love that are common to both our faiths," Rabbi Eric Yoffie, president of the Union for Reform Judaism, told members of the Islamic Society of North America at their annual meeting in Rosemont. "We know nothing of Islam -- nothing. The time has come to listen to our Muslim neighbors speak in their own words about the spiritual power of Islam and their love for their religion."
Frequently interrupted by ovations, Yoffie introduced a joint initiative to launch conversations between Muslims and Jews across the country. In a separate interview, Yoffie envisions mosques and synagogues initially forging partnerships in 10 cities.
"There is nothing simple or easy about the project that we are about to undertake," he said. "But interconnected since the time of Abraham, thrust into each other's lives by history and fate and living in a global world, what choice do we really have?"
Sayyid Syeed, who directs the Islamic Society's national interfaith outreach, welcomed Yoffie to the stage, saying the appearance was long overdue.
"Today we are making history," Syeed said. "What you can ask him today is 'What took you so long?'"
For many in the audience, the answer was simple. For decades, most American Jews and Muslims have been unable to forgive or forget the deadly conflict between Israelis and Palestinians in the Middle East. Many attempts to engage in dialogue have reached an impasse.
Others who were not in the audience said the Muslim organization's invitation to Yoffie marks a significant and symbolic shift in approach. In years past, interfaith receptions have been scheduled on Friday nights, when Jews observe the Sabbath, making some Jews feel unwelcome.
"I think it's a healthy step forward," said Rabbi Ira Youdovin, executive vice president of the Chicago Board of Rabbis. "The important thing is to be able to talk to people."
Yoffie said Jews and Muslims should indeed start talking and stop arguing. They should present a unified front when urging the American government to work toward a peaceful resolution overseas and to stop racial profiling and discrimination on American soil. Yoffie joined Muslim leaders in private meetings with government officials Friday.
Along with other major American Muslim groups, ISNA's tax records and prison ministries have been investigated by the federal government in search of terrorist connections. No wrongdoing has been found. U.S. military and government officials have job booths at the convention to recruit chaplains and others who speak Arabic.
Yoffie acknowledges the trepidation some Jews might feel about the partnership, especially if they equate the Islamic Society with other Muslim organizations that have been targets of government investigations.
"Our view is that it's important to talk to people that you don't agree with and not simply those that you do agree with," he said in an interview. "It would be impossible to enter into this kind of program with a group that is somehow not unequivocally clear in its condemnation of terror. ISNA is not in that category."
To the Muslim audience, Yoffie insisted that Jews and Muslims must overcome the fears and suspicions that stem from clashes overseas.
"Will we, Jews and Muslims, import the conflicts of the Middle East into America, or will we join together and send a message of peace to that troubled land?" Yoffie asked. "If Israel is portrayed as 'a dagger pushed into the heart of Islam,' rather than a nation-state disputing matters of land and water with the Palestinians, we are lost. As religious Jews and religious Muslims, let us do everything in our power to prevent a political battle from being transformed into a holy war."
This is not the first time the Reform movement and national Muslim leaders have attempted to launch a dialogue in Chicago. Rabbi Herbert Bronstein, senior scholar of North Shore Congregation Israel, spearheaded negotiations in the early 1990s that broke down when neither Muslims nor Jews could avoid taking sides in the Middle East conflict. He called efforts to revive the conversations "nothing short of momentous."
He said liberal Jews can help Muslims who are seeking to become more moderate while retaining the authenticity of their beliefs.
"That's the North American experience," Bronstein said. "There's a kind of mutual illumination taking place that we should be proud of as Americans."
Dr. Zaher Sahloul, president of the Mosque Foundation in Bridgeview, said that while agreeing to disagree may sound easy to some, "it takes time to build trust and confidence just like any relationship."
"They have to look at us as partners, not a threat," he said.
Niger Rehman of Long Island, N.Y., said she was pleasantly surprised by Yoffie's ability to give a balanced perspective.
"I do hope we can find common ground," she said. "One step at a time. Though the world is moving fast, we don't have too much time."
ISNA, based in Plainfield, Ind., is the largest umbrella group of Muslims in North America, claiming more than 100,000 members and 300 constituent organizations, including mosques, campus groups and professional organizations.
About 30,000 members from the U.S. and Canada are expected to attend the annual meeting, which runs through Monday. Yoffie leads 1.5 million progressive Jews in the U.S.
By Manya A. Brachear
Chicago Tribune
September 1, 2007
In an unusual goodwill gesture, the top rabbi of the nation's largest Jewish movement pleaded with American Muslims on Friday to transcend the differences that have divided their people for decades and join Jews to confront the extremist factions and prejudice that plague both religious traditions.
"It is ... our collective task to strengthen and inspire one another as we fight the fanatics and work to promote the values of justice and love that are common to both our faiths," Rabbi Eric Yoffie, president of the Union for Reform Judaism, told members of the Islamic Society of North America at their annual meeting in Rosemont. "We know nothing of Islam -- nothing. The time has come to listen to our Muslim neighbors speak in their own words about the spiritual power of Islam and their love for their religion."
Frequently interrupted by ovations, Yoffie introduced a joint initiative to launch conversations between Muslims and Jews across the country. In a separate interview, Yoffie envisions mosques and synagogues initially forging partnerships in 10 cities.
"There is nothing simple or easy about the project that we are about to undertake," he said. "But interconnected since the time of Abraham, thrust into each other's lives by history and fate and living in a global world, what choice do we really have?"
Sayyid Syeed, who directs the Islamic Society's national interfaith outreach, welcomed Yoffie to the stage, saying the appearance was long overdue.
"Today we are making history," Syeed said. "What you can ask him today is 'What took you so long?'"
For many in the audience, the answer was simple. For decades, most American Jews and Muslims have been unable to forgive or forget the deadly conflict between Israelis and Palestinians in the Middle East. Many attempts to engage in dialogue have reached an impasse.
Others who were not in the audience said the Muslim organization's invitation to Yoffie marks a significant and symbolic shift in approach. In years past, interfaith receptions have been scheduled on Friday nights, when Jews observe the Sabbath, making some Jews feel unwelcome.
"I think it's a healthy step forward," said Rabbi Ira Youdovin, executive vice president of the Chicago Board of Rabbis. "The important thing is to be able to talk to people."
Yoffie said Jews and Muslims should indeed start talking and stop arguing. They should present a unified front when urging the American government to work toward a peaceful resolution overseas and to stop racial profiling and discrimination on American soil. Yoffie joined Muslim leaders in private meetings with government officials Friday.
Along with other major American Muslim groups, ISNA's tax records and prison ministries have been investigated by the federal government in search of terrorist connections. No wrongdoing has been found. U.S. military and government officials have job booths at the convention to recruit chaplains and others who speak Arabic.
Yoffie acknowledges the trepidation some Jews might feel about the partnership, especially if they equate the Islamic Society with other Muslim organizations that have been targets of government investigations.
"Our view is that it's important to talk to people that you don't agree with and not simply those that you do agree with," he said in an interview. "It would be impossible to enter into this kind of program with a group that is somehow not unequivocally clear in its condemnation of terror. ISNA is not in that category."
To the Muslim audience, Yoffie insisted that Jews and Muslims must overcome the fears and suspicions that stem from clashes overseas.
"Will we, Jews and Muslims, import the conflicts of the Middle East into America, or will we join together and send a message of peace to that troubled land?" Yoffie asked. "If Israel is portrayed as 'a dagger pushed into the heart of Islam,' rather than a nation-state disputing matters of land and water with the Palestinians, we are lost. As religious Jews and religious Muslims, let us do everything in our power to prevent a political battle from being transformed into a holy war."
This is not the first time the Reform movement and national Muslim leaders have attempted to launch a dialogue in Chicago. Rabbi Herbert Bronstein, senior scholar of North Shore Congregation Israel, spearheaded negotiations in the early 1990s that broke down when neither Muslims nor Jews could avoid taking sides in the Middle East conflict. He called efforts to revive the conversations "nothing short of momentous."
He said liberal Jews can help Muslims who are seeking to become more moderate while retaining the authenticity of their beliefs.
"That's the North American experience," Bronstein said. "There's a kind of mutual illumination taking place that we should be proud of as Americans."
Dr. Zaher Sahloul, president of the Mosque Foundation in Bridgeview, said that while agreeing to disagree may sound easy to some, "it takes time to build trust and confidence just like any relationship."
"They have to look at us as partners, not a threat," he said.
Niger Rehman of Long Island, N.Y., said she was pleasantly surprised by Yoffie's ability to give a balanced perspective.
"I do hope we can find common ground," she said. "One step at a time. Though the world is moving fast, we don't have too much time."
ISNA, based in Plainfield, Ind., is the largest umbrella group of Muslims in North America, claiming more than 100,000 members and 300 constituent organizations, including mosques, campus groups and professional organizations.
About 30,000 members from the U.S. and Canada are expected to attend the annual meeting, which runs through Monday. Yoffie leads 1.5 million progressive Jews in the U.S.
Saturday, September 1, 2007
Israelis/ Palestinian Youth Summer Camp
CPTnet
28 August 2007
AT-TUWANI: Israeli children, parents, and teachers participate in Tuwani
summer camp
On 11 and 12 August, fifteen young Israelis and many of their parents joined
Palestinian children from the Tuwani area in summer camp activities. Tuwani
community members collaborated with the Israeli peace organization Ta'ayush
and a non-profit organization called Prelude to make the summer camp
possible
The Israeli visitors were mainly students and teachers from a bilingual
school in Jerusalem. Upon entering the Tuwani schoolyard, an arc of
cheering, chanting Palestinian children, clad in summer camp T-shirts and
caps, welcomed them. After shaking hands and listening to brief welcome
recitations from their hosts, the guests filed into classrooms for morning
activities that included musical games and art projects. Later, Tuwani
children hosted a tour of the village aiming to teach their Jerusalem
friends about life in the rural Palestinian setting. The Israeli youngsters
observed and participated in pulling water from the well, milking goats and
sheep, and riding a donkey before enjoying a meal prepared by local women.
A separate outing to the nearby village of Mufakara took place the following
day. A Palestinian cave-dwelling family received the Palestinians and
Israelis as guests for tea and conversation. The hosts responded to
questions from Israeli visitors about the challenges of living near two
Israeli settler outposts.
In a closing finale of the two-day exchange, all children joined forces in a
painting project that resulted in a vibrant mural hemming the exterior wall
of Tuwani's school.
Parents and teachers of the Israeli summer campers were equally involved in
the tours and activities. Some voiced concerns that the topics of settler
violence and other realities of the Israeli occupation could overburden the
young visitors. But all agreed that the visit reinforced the importance of
learning about Palestinian culture and building relationships with their
counterparts on the other side of the Green Line.
One Tuwani summer camp organizer commented on the significance of the visit:
"This is really something never done before in this whole area. We're
hoping that the people who came will tell their friends, and next year we
can have fifty children from Israel visiting us." He also expressed
interest in offering overnight home stays for next year's guests. "By doing
this we're saying we have faith in the future, because the children -- from
both sides -- are our future."
Click on the following link for a slideshow from the Tuwani summer camp
activities:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/joshhough/sets/72157601697599442/show/
______________
Christian Peacemaker Teams (CPT) seeks to enlist the whole church in
organized, nonviolent alternatives to war and places teams of trained
peacemakers in regions of lethal conflict. Originally a violence-reduction
initiative of the historic peace churches (Mennonite, Church of the Brethren
and Quaker), CPT now enjoys support and membership from a wide range of
Christian denominations.
To ask questions or express concerns, criticisms and affirmations send
messages to peacemakers@cpt.org.
28 August 2007
AT-TUWANI: Israeli children, parents, and teachers participate in Tuwani
summer camp
On 11 and 12 August, fifteen young Israelis and many of their parents joined
Palestinian children from the Tuwani area in summer camp activities. Tuwani
community members collaborated with the Israeli peace organization Ta'ayush
and a non-profit organization called Prelude to make the summer camp
possible
The Israeli visitors were mainly students and teachers from a bilingual
school in Jerusalem. Upon entering the Tuwani schoolyard, an arc of
cheering, chanting Palestinian children, clad in summer camp T-shirts and
caps, welcomed them. After shaking hands and listening to brief welcome
recitations from their hosts, the guests filed into classrooms for morning
activities that included musical games and art projects. Later, Tuwani
children hosted a tour of the village aiming to teach their Jerusalem
friends about life in the rural Palestinian setting. The Israeli youngsters
observed and participated in pulling water from the well, milking goats and
sheep, and riding a donkey before enjoying a meal prepared by local women.
A separate outing to the nearby village of Mufakara took place the following
day. A Palestinian cave-dwelling family received the Palestinians and
Israelis as guests for tea and conversation. The hosts responded to
questions from Israeli visitors about the challenges of living near two
Israeli settler outposts.
In a closing finale of the two-day exchange, all children joined forces in a
painting project that resulted in a vibrant mural hemming the exterior wall
of Tuwani's school.
Parents and teachers of the Israeli summer campers were equally involved in
the tours and activities. Some voiced concerns that the topics of settler
violence and other realities of the Israeli occupation could overburden the
young visitors. But all agreed that the visit reinforced the importance of
learning about Palestinian culture and building relationships with their
counterparts on the other side of the Green Line.
One Tuwani summer camp organizer commented on the significance of the visit:
"This is really something never done before in this whole area. We're
hoping that the people who came will tell their friends, and next year we
can have fifty children from Israel visiting us." He also expressed
interest in offering overnight home stays for next year's guests. "By doing
this we're saying we have faith in the future, because the children -- from
both sides -- are our future."
Click on the following link for a slideshow from the Tuwani summer camp
activities:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/joshhough/sets/72157601697599442/show/
______________
Christian Peacemaker Teams (CPT) seeks to enlist the whole church in
organized, nonviolent alternatives to war and places teams of trained
peacemakers in regions of lethal conflict. Originally a violence-reduction
initiative of the historic peace churches (Mennonite, Church of the Brethren
and Quaker), CPT now enjoys support and membership from a wide range of
Christian denominations.
To ask questions or express concerns, criticisms and affirmations send
messages to peacemakers@cpt.org.
Friday, August 24, 2007
Is A Boycott of Israel Schools Really Possible?
A Boycott Of Israel: Something Has Changed
By John Pilger
24 August, 2007
The New Statesman
From a limestone hill rising above Qalandia refugee camp you can see Jerusalem.
I watched a lone figure standing there in the rain, his son holding the tail of his long tattered coat. He extended his hand and did not let go. "I am Ahmed Hamzeh, street entertainer," he said in measured English. "Over there, I played many musical instruments; I sang in Arabic, English and Hebrew, and because I was rather poor, my very small son would chew gum while the monkey did its tricks.
When we lost our country, we lost respect. One day a rich Kuwaiti stopped his car in front of us. He shouted at my son, "Show me how a Palestinian picks up his food rations!" So I made the monkey appear to scavenge on the ground, in the gutter. And my son scavenged with him. The Kuwaiti threw coins and my son crawled on his knees to pick them up. This was not right; I was an artist, not a beggar . . . I am not even a peasant now."
"How do you feel about all that?" I asked him.
"Do you expect me to feel hatred? What is that to a Palestinian? I never hated the Jews and their Israel . . . yes, I suppose I hate them now, or maybe I pity them for their stupidity. They can't win. Because we Palestinians are the Jews now and, like the Jews, we will never allow them or the Arabs or you to forget. The youth will guarantee us that, and the youth after them . . .".
That was 40 years ago. On my last trip back to the West Bank, I recognised little of Qalandia, now announced by a vast Israeli checkpoint, a zigzag of sandbags, oil drums and breeze blocks, with conga lines of people, waiting, swatting flies with precious papers. Inside the camp, the tents had been replaced by sturdy hovels, although the queues at single taps were as long, I was assured, and the dust still ran to caramel in the rain.
At the United Nations office I asked about Ahmed Hamzeh, the street entertainer. Records were consulted, heads shaken. Someone thought he had been "taken away . . . very ill". No one knew about his son, whose trachoma was surely blindness now. Outside, another generation kicked a punctured football in the dust.
And yet, what Nelson Mandela has called "the greatest moral issue of the age" refuses to be buried in the dust. For every BBC voice that strains to equate occupier with occupied, thief with victim, for every swarm of emails from the fanatics of Zion to those who invert the lies and describe the Israeli state's commitment to the destruction of Palestine, the truth is more powerful now than ever.
Documentation of the violent expulsion of Palestinians in 1948 is voluminous. Re-examination of the historical record has put paid to the fable of heroic David in the Six Day War, when Ahmed Hamzeh and his family were driven from their home. The alleged threat of Arab leaders to "throw the Jews into the sea", used to justify the 1967 Israeli onslaught and since repeated relentlessly, is highly questionable.
In 2005, the spectacle of wailing Old Testament zealots leaving Gaza was a fraud. The building of their "settlements" has accelerated on the West Bank, along with the illegal Berlin-style wall dividing farmers from their crops, children from their schools, families from each other. We now know that Israel's destruction of much of Lebanon last year was pre-planned. As the former CIA analyst Kathleen Christison has written, the recent "civil war" in Gaza was actually a coup against the elected Hamas-led government, engineered by Elliott Abrams, the Zionist who runs US policy on Israel and a convicted felon from the Iran-Contra era.
The ethnic cleansing of Palestine is as much America's crusade as Israel's. On 16 August, the Bush administration announced an unprecedented $30bn military "aid package" for Israel, the world's fourth biggest military power, an air power greater than Britain, a nuclear power greater than France. No other country on earth enjoys such immunity, allowing it to act without sanction, as Israel. No other country has such a record of lawlessness: not one of the world's tyrannies comes close. International treaties, such as the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty, ratified by Iran, are ignored by Israel. There is nothing like it in UN history.
But something is changing. Perhaps last summer's panoramic horror beamed from Lebanon on to the world's TV screens provided the catalyst. Or perhaps cynicism of Bush and Blair and the incessant use of the inanity, "terror", together with the day-by-day dissemination of a fabricated insecurity in all our lives, has finally brought the attention of the international community outside the rogue states, Britain and the US, back to one of its principal sources, Israel.
I got a sense of this recently in the United States. A full-page advertisement in the New York Times had the distinct odour of panic. There have been many "friends of Israel" advertisements in the Times, demanding the usual favours, rationalising the usual outrages. This one was different. "Boycott a cure for cancer?" was its main headline, followed by "Stop drip irrigation in Africa? Prevent scientific co-operation between nations?" Who would want to do such things? "Some British academics want to boycott Israelis," was the self-serving answer. It referred to the University and College Union's (UCU) inaugural conference motion in May, calling for discussion within its branches for a boycott of Israeli academic institutions. As John Chalcraft of the London School of Economics pointed out, "the Israeli academy has long provided intellectual, linguistic, logistical, technical, scientific and human support for an occupation in direct violation of international law [against which] no Israeli academic institution has ever taken a public stand".
The swell of a boycott is growing inexorably, as if an important marker has been passed, reminiscent of the boycotts that led to sanctions against apartheid South Africa. Both Mandela and Desmond Tutu have drawn this parallel; so has South African cabinet minister Ronnie Kasrils and other illustrious Jewish members of the liberation struggle. In Britain, an often Jewish-led academic campaign against Israel's "methodical destruction of [the Palestinian] education system" can be translated by those of us who have reported from the occupied territories into the arbitrary closure of Palestinian universities, the harassment and humiliation of students at checkpoints and the shooting and killing of Palestinian children on their way to school.
These initiatives have been backed by a British group, Independent Jewish Voices, whose 528 signatories include Stephen Fry, Harold Pinter, Mike Leigh and Eric Hobsbawm. The country's biggest union, Unison, has called for an "economic, cultural, academic and sporting boycott" and the right of return for Palestinian families expelled in 1948. Remarkably, the Commons' international development committee has made a similar stand. In April, the membership of the National Union of Journalists (NUJ) voted for a boycott only to see it hastily overturned by the national executive council. In the Republic of Ireland, the Irish Congress of Trade Unions has called for divestment from Israeli companies: a campaign aimed at the European Union, which accounts for two-thirds of Israel's exports under an EU-Israel Association Agreement. The UN Special Rapporteur on the Right to Food, Jean Ziegler, has said that human rights conditions in the agreement should be invoked and Israel's trading preferences suspended.
This is unusual, for these were once distant voices. And that such grave discussion of a boycott has "gone global" was unforeseen in official Israel, long comforted by its seemingly untouchable myths and great power sponsorship, and confident that the mere threat of anti-Semitism would ensure silence. When the British lecturers' decision was announced, the US Congress passed an absurd resolution describing the UCU as "anti-Semitic". (Eighty congressmen have gone on junkets to Israel this summer.)
This intimidation has worked in the past. The smearing of American academics has denied them promotion, even tenure. The late Edward Said kept an emergency button in his New York apartment connected to the local police station; his offices at Columbia University were once burned down. Following my 2002 film, Palestine is Still the Issue, I received death threats and slanderous abuse, most of it coming from the US where the film was never shown.
When the BBC's Independent Panel recently examined the corporation's coverage of the Middle East, it was inundated with emails, "many from abroad, mostly from North America", said its report. Some individuals "sent multiple missives, some were duplicates and there was clear evidence of pressure group mobilisation". The panel's conclusion was that BBC reporting of the Palestinian struggle was not "full and fair" and "in important respects, presents an incomplete and in that sense misleading picture". This was neutralised in BBC press releases.
The courageous Israeli historian, Ilan Pappé, believes a single democratic state, to which the Palestinian refugees are given the right of return, is the only feasible and just solution, and that a sanctions and boycott campaign is critical in achieving this. Would the Israeli population be moved by a worldwide boycott?
Although they would rarely admit it, South Africa's whites were moved enough to support an historic change. A boycott of Israeli institutions, goods and services, says Pappé, "will not change the [Israeli] position in a day, but it will send a clear message that [the premises of Zionism] are racist and unacceptable in the 21st century . . . They would have to choose." And so would the rest of us.
This article was first published at the New Statesman
http://www.countercurrents.org/pilger240807.htm
By John Pilger
24 August, 2007
The New Statesman
From a limestone hill rising above Qalandia refugee camp you can see Jerusalem.
I watched a lone figure standing there in the rain, his son holding the tail of his long tattered coat. He extended his hand and did not let go. "I am Ahmed Hamzeh, street entertainer," he said in measured English. "Over there, I played many musical instruments; I sang in Arabic, English and Hebrew, and because I was rather poor, my very small son would chew gum while the monkey did its tricks.
When we lost our country, we lost respect. One day a rich Kuwaiti stopped his car in front of us. He shouted at my son, "Show me how a Palestinian picks up his food rations!" So I made the monkey appear to scavenge on the ground, in the gutter. And my son scavenged with him. The Kuwaiti threw coins and my son crawled on his knees to pick them up. This was not right; I was an artist, not a beggar . . . I am not even a peasant now."
"How do you feel about all that?" I asked him.
"Do you expect me to feel hatred? What is that to a Palestinian? I never hated the Jews and their Israel . . . yes, I suppose I hate them now, or maybe I pity them for their stupidity. They can't win. Because we Palestinians are the Jews now and, like the Jews, we will never allow them or the Arabs or you to forget. The youth will guarantee us that, and the youth after them . . .".
That was 40 years ago. On my last trip back to the West Bank, I recognised little of Qalandia, now announced by a vast Israeli checkpoint, a zigzag of sandbags, oil drums and breeze blocks, with conga lines of people, waiting, swatting flies with precious papers. Inside the camp, the tents had been replaced by sturdy hovels, although the queues at single taps were as long, I was assured, and the dust still ran to caramel in the rain.
At the United Nations office I asked about Ahmed Hamzeh, the street entertainer. Records were consulted, heads shaken. Someone thought he had been "taken away . . . very ill". No one knew about his son, whose trachoma was surely blindness now. Outside, another generation kicked a punctured football in the dust.
And yet, what Nelson Mandela has called "the greatest moral issue of the age" refuses to be buried in the dust. For every BBC voice that strains to equate occupier with occupied, thief with victim, for every swarm of emails from the fanatics of Zion to those who invert the lies and describe the Israeli state's commitment to the destruction of Palestine, the truth is more powerful now than ever.
Documentation of the violent expulsion of Palestinians in 1948 is voluminous. Re-examination of the historical record has put paid to the fable of heroic David in the Six Day War, when Ahmed Hamzeh and his family were driven from their home. The alleged threat of Arab leaders to "throw the Jews into the sea", used to justify the 1967 Israeli onslaught and since repeated relentlessly, is highly questionable.
In 2005, the spectacle of wailing Old Testament zealots leaving Gaza was a fraud. The building of their "settlements" has accelerated on the West Bank, along with the illegal Berlin-style wall dividing farmers from their crops, children from their schools, families from each other. We now know that Israel's destruction of much of Lebanon last year was pre-planned. As the former CIA analyst Kathleen Christison has written, the recent "civil war" in Gaza was actually a coup against the elected Hamas-led government, engineered by Elliott Abrams, the Zionist who runs US policy on Israel and a convicted felon from the Iran-Contra era.
The ethnic cleansing of Palestine is as much America's crusade as Israel's. On 16 August, the Bush administration announced an unprecedented $30bn military "aid package" for Israel, the world's fourth biggest military power, an air power greater than Britain, a nuclear power greater than France. No other country on earth enjoys such immunity, allowing it to act without sanction, as Israel. No other country has such a record of lawlessness: not one of the world's tyrannies comes close. International treaties, such as the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty, ratified by Iran, are ignored by Israel. There is nothing like it in UN history.
But something is changing. Perhaps last summer's panoramic horror beamed from Lebanon on to the world's TV screens provided the catalyst. Or perhaps cynicism of Bush and Blair and the incessant use of the inanity, "terror", together with the day-by-day dissemination of a fabricated insecurity in all our lives, has finally brought the attention of the international community outside the rogue states, Britain and the US, back to one of its principal sources, Israel.
I got a sense of this recently in the United States. A full-page advertisement in the New York Times had the distinct odour of panic. There have been many "friends of Israel" advertisements in the Times, demanding the usual favours, rationalising the usual outrages. This one was different. "Boycott a cure for cancer?" was its main headline, followed by "Stop drip irrigation in Africa? Prevent scientific co-operation between nations?" Who would want to do such things? "Some British academics want to boycott Israelis," was the self-serving answer. It referred to the University and College Union's (UCU) inaugural conference motion in May, calling for discussion within its branches for a boycott of Israeli academic institutions. As John Chalcraft of the London School of Economics pointed out, "the Israeli academy has long provided intellectual, linguistic, logistical, technical, scientific and human support for an occupation in direct violation of international law [against which] no Israeli academic institution has ever taken a public stand".
The swell of a boycott is growing inexorably, as if an important marker has been passed, reminiscent of the boycotts that led to sanctions against apartheid South Africa. Both Mandela and Desmond Tutu have drawn this parallel; so has South African cabinet minister Ronnie Kasrils and other illustrious Jewish members of the liberation struggle. In Britain, an often Jewish-led academic campaign against Israel's "methodical destruction of [the Palestinian] education system" can be translated by those of us who have reported from the occupied territories into the arbitrary closure of Palestinian universities, the harassment and humiliation of students at checkpoints and the shooting and killing of Palestinian children on their way to school.
These initiatives have been backed by a British group, Independent Jewish Voices, whose 528 signatories include Stephen Fry, Harold Pinter, Mike Leigh and Eric Hobsbawm. The country's biggest union, Unison, has called for an "economic, cultural, academic and sporting boycott" and the right of return for Palestinian families expelled in 1948. Remarkably, the Commons' international development committee has made a similar stand. In April, the membership of the National Union of Journalists (NUJ) voted for a boycott only to see it hastily overturned by the national executive council. In the Republic of Ireland, the Irish Congress of Trade Unions has called for divestment from Israeli companies: a campaign aimed at the European Union, which accounts for two-thirds of Israel's exports under an EU-Israel Association Agreement. The UN Special Rapporteur on the Right to Food, Jean Ziegler, has said that human rights conditions in the agreement should be invoked and Israel's trading preferences suspended.
This is unusual, for these were once distant voices. And that such grave discussion of a boycott has "gone global" was unforeseen in official Israel, long comforted by its seemingly untouchable myths and great power sponsorship, and confident that the mere threat of anti-Semitism would ensure silence. When the British lecturers' decision was announced, the US Congress passed an absurd resolution describing the UCU as "anti-Semitic". (Eighty congressmen have gone on junkets to Israel this summer.)
This intimidation has worked in the past. The smearing of American academics has denied them promotion, even tenure. The late Edward Said kept an emergency button in his New York apartment connected to the local police station; his offices at Columbia University were once burned down. Following my 2002 film, Palestine is Still the Issue, I received death threats and slanderous abuse, most of it coming from the US where the film was never shown.
When the BBC's Independent Panel recently examined the corporation's coverage of the Middle East, it was inundated with emails, "many from abroad, mostly from North America", said its report. Some individuals "sent multiple missives, some were duplicates and there was clear evidence of pressure group mobilisation". The panel's conclusion was that BBC reporting of the Palestinian struggle was not "full and fair" and "in important respects, presents an incomplete and in that sense misleading picture". This was neutralised in BBC press releases.
The courageous Israeli historian, Ilan Pappé, believes a single democratic state, to which the Palestinian refugees are given the right of return, is the only feasible and just solution, and that a sanctions and boycott campaign is critical in achieving this. Would the Israeli population be moved by a worldwide boycott?
Although they would rarely admit it, South Africa's whites were moved enough to support an historic change. A boycott of Israeli institutions, goods and services, says Pappé, "will not change the [Israeli] position in a day, but it will send a clear message that [the premises of Zionism] are racist and unacceptable in the 21st century . . . They would have to choose." And so would the rest of us.
This article was first published at the New Statesman
http://www.countercurrents.org/pilger240807.htm
Saturday, August 18, 2007
Dr Sabella Speaks Out
MOURNING AND THE MORNING AFTER
By Dr. Bernard Sabella
Amin (Palestine)
August 17, 2007
Transitions that accompany separation have a built in mourning process. Experts say that the period of mourning depends on the nature of separation, personal and group characteristics, attachments and values.
On August 15, I visited with a group of Fateh legislators in the Palestinian Legislative Council the towns of Qalqilya, Jayyus, Azzun and smaller villages in the vicinity. These beautiful towns, close to the Green Line of 1948 that separates the West Bank from Israel, are experiencing a variety of mourning processes.
One separation that stands out and that recalls the mourning process is the forceful detachment of the people of these towns, mostly farmers, from their lands. Standing on the roof of the local municipal council at Jayyus one can see how the Israeli built separation wall, a fence in this case, forcibly stops Palestinian farmers from attending to their land.
Yes, the Israeli military authorities have introduced a permit system but it is highly selective and does not allow able bodied farmers to access their fields. Besides, the opening hours of the two gates in the separation fence are so restricted; 7 to 8 in the morning; 12:00 to 1:00 pm and 6:00 to 7:00 pm that if one farmer misses one day, his agricultural produce would irreparably be damaged.
One old man in Jayyus told me that all is finished. The Israelis have taken our land away and restricted us from working on it. He was speaking so despondently that I was reminded of the mourning people experience on the passing of a dear one.
One of the foreign accompaniers in a World Council of Churches accompaniment program, stationed in Jayyus, told me that the accompaniers go to the two fences every morning at 6:00 am before they open. They monitor what is happening and they do reports that they share with the outside world. According to this accompanier, one of the biggest problems for the Jayyus farmers is the very limited number of permits issued by the Israeli authorities to enable them to access their lands. The presence of the accompaniers is recognized and praised by the people of Jayyus, the mayor and other community leaders.
Qalqilya is experiencing its own mourning process. Entry to the town is only possible through one Israeli military checkpoint. The town itself, with a population of over 35,000 is encircled by the Separation Wall. The best description of the Wall surrounding Qalqilya is that of a bulgy bottle with the bottleneck controlled by the Israeli checkpoint. Mingling in the local market one can see that business is at a standstill. Shop owners complain that the Israeli military does not allow for Arab Israelis, with yellow Israeli car plates, to access the town as they used to in the past. Accordingly, business is suffering and the once thriving town is now experiencing an economic depression.
The fact that many of the town’s agricultural lands are also beyond the Separation Wall makes it difficult to compete in the marketing of produce as accessing these lands render costs too prohibitive for export. One Qalqilya elder told me as he pointed out with his hand the route of the Separation Wall and a number of Israeli illegal settlements in the surroundings that the Israelis have taken away most of Qalqilya’s agricultural lands and they plan to take what is left. He too, like the farmer from Jayyus, had tears in his eyes. His whole essence of living, personal and collective narrative with the land of Qalqilya is being taken away from him.
There were other sad stories heard of smaller communities threatened to be totally displaced by the Israeli authorities in order for their prized land to become part of Israel and specifically part of expanding Israeli illegal settlements.
I left Qalqilya around nine in the evening with a heavy heart. The visit has confirmed that the problems of occupation are not simply political issues of how Palestinians and Israelis can overcome their historic enmity but concrete problems that result from a power relationship that is heartless and oblivious to individual and collective histories and narratives and to attachments of Palestinians to land and to its meaning.
Some would argue that lifting of the checkpoints in the West Bank would give a boost to peace efforts and would make Palestinians more comfortable with accommodationist policies with Israel.
But the lifting of these Israeli military checkpoints if done without willingness to change the structure of domination and land grabbing and annexation would mean nothing in the long run. The morning after, in the Palestinian Territories, will not come as long as Israel fails to take up its ethical and moral responsibility of ending its occupation of Palestinian Lands and redressing the wounds that Palestinians have suffered as a result.
All of us look for the morning after but for some its dawning can be difficult. From what I saw and heard in Qalqilya and Jayyus and their surrounding village and rural communities I doubt that the morning after will be with us in the near future.
By Dr. Bernard Sabella
Amin (Palestine)
August 17, 2007
Transitions that accompany separation have a built in mourning process. Experts say that the period of mourning depends on the nature of separation, personal and group characteristics, attachments and values.
On August 15, I visited with a group of Fateh legislators in the Palestinian Legislative Council the towns of Qalqilya, Jayyus, Azzun and smaller villages in the vicinity. These beautiful towns, close to the Green Line of 1948 that separates the West Bank from Israel, are experiencing a variety of mourning processes.
One separation that stands out and that recalls the mourning process is the forceful detachment of the people of these towns, mostly farmers, from their lands. Standing on the roof of the local municipal council at Jayyus one can see how the Israeli built separation wall, a fence in this case, forcibly stops Palestinian farmers from attending to their land.
Yes, the Israeli military authorities have introduced a permit system but it is highly selective and does not allow able bodied farmers to access their fields. Besides, the opening hours of the two gates in the separation fence are so restricted; 7 to 8 in the morning; 12:00 to 1:00 pm and 6:00 to 7:00 pm that if one farmer misses one day, his agricultural produce would irreparably be damaged.
One old man in Jayyus told me that all is finished. The Israelis have taken our land away and restricted us from working on it. He was speaking so despondently that I was reminded of the mourning people experience on the passing of a dear one.
One of the foreign accompaniers in a World Council of Churches accompaniment program, stationed in Jayyus, told me that the accompaniers go to the two fences every morning at 6:00 am before they open. They monitor what is happening and they do reports that they share with the outside world. According to this accompanier, one of the biggest problems for the Jayyus farmers is the very limited number of permits issued by the Israeli authorities to enable them to access their lands. The presence of the accompaniers is recognized and praised by the people of Jayyus, the mayor and other community leaders.
Qalqilya is experiencing its own mourning process. Entry to the town is only possible through one Israeli military checkpoint. The town itself, with a population of over 35,000 is encircled by the Separation Wall. The best description of the Wall surrounding Qalqilya is that of a bulgy bottle with the bottleneck controlled by the Israeli checkpoint. Mingling in the local market one can see that business is at a standstill. Shop owners complain that the Israeli military does not allow for Arab Israelis, with yellow Israeli car plates, to access the town as they used to in the past. Accordingly, business is suffering and the once thriving town is now experiencing an economic depression.
The fact that many of the town’s agricultural lands are also beyond the Separation Wall makes it difficult to compete in the marketing of produce as accessing these lands render costs too prohibitive for export. One Qalqilya elder told me as he pointed out with his hand the route of the Separation Wall and a number of Israeli illegal settlements in the surroundings that the Israelis have taken away most of Qalqilya’s agricultural lands and they plan to take what is left. He too, like the farmer from Jayyus, had tears in his eyes. His whole essence of living, personal and collective narrative with the land of Qalqilya is being taken away from him.
There were other sad stories heard of smaller communities threatened to be totally displaced by the Israeli authorities in order for their prized land to become part of Israel and specifically part of expanding Israeli illegal settlements.
I left Qalqilya around nine in the evening with a heavy heart. The visit has confirmed that the problems of occupation are not simply political issues of how Palestinians and Israelis can overcome their historic enmity but concrete problems that result from a power relationship that is heartless and oblivious to individual and collective histories and narratives and to attachments of Palestinians to land and to its meaning.
Some would argue that lifting of the checkpoints in the West Bank would give a boost to peace efforts and would make Palestinians more comfortable with accommodationist policies with Israel.
But the lifting of these Israeli military checkpoints if done without willingness to change the structure of domination and land grabbing and annexation would mean nothing in the long run. The morning after, in the Palestinian Territories, will not come as long as Israel fails to take up its ethical and moral responsibility of ending its occupation of Palestinian Lands and redressing the wounds that Palestinians have suffered as a result.
All of us look for the morning after but for some its dawning can be difficult. From what I saw and heard in Qalqilya and Jayyus and their surrounding village and rural communities I doubt that the morning after will be with us in the near future.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Another Lament for the Children
SAVING THE CHILDREN
By Joharah Barker
MIFTAH (Palestine)
August 15, 2007
In any seemingly inconsolable situation, you can always fall back on the maxim, “It could be worse.” There is truth in this, no doubt.
After watching, “Hotel Rwanda” in horror, I realized that our children have not yet seen their neighbors being hacked to death by another neighbor,or scores of bodies blocking off main roads.
So yes, it can be worse. But for Palestine’s children, it is bad enough. While our politicians continue to vie for meaningless positions of power, vilifying each other with an unprecedented vengeance and the Israeli army continues to invade, shell and kill our people, an entire generation is being raised and molded in a place that offers little hope for a healthy and prosperous future. Palestinian society, like many developing societies is mainly comprised of young people.
According to Save the Children, 53 percent of the population is under the age of 18, that is, approximately 1.2 million Palestinians. This is a significantly large sector of society andone which constitutes the future generation. However, what sort of future is in store for our children? What value system are they being raised on when everything around them is violence, poverty and dashed hopes?
The statistics alone speak volumes. Issues such as death, poverty, imprisonment or home demolition are difficult enough to comprehend for an adult, much less a child, whose main concern should be what new video game to play and not whether their house will remain intact overnight. However, our children are forced to face these issues every day, the psychological ramifications of which may not surface for years.
A total of 882 Palestinian children have been killed since the start of the Intifada in September 2000 as a result of Israeli military or settler violence up to June 2007. This is not including children killed in Palestinian internal violence, especially in Gaza, where at least seven child deaths were recorded in June, 2007 alone, according to Save the Children.
There are also over Palestinian 400 children being held in Israeli detention facilities. Then there are those children forced to live in abject poverty because their families have lost their jobs or their fathers are dead or imprisoned. Seven out of 10 households in theWest Bank and Gaza live in poverty, determined by the World Bank as living on $2/day or less.
The list goes on and on. How many Palestinian children have seen their homes demolished before their eyes, their fathers, brothers, sisters, killed before them or violently taken away byIsraeli forces? How many have been humiliated at checkpoints, their schoolbags carelessly flipped upside down and then left to be retrieved from the dusty ground?
These are rough circumstances for any human being to live under, much less children. Still,while the Israeli occupation has been a ubiquitous presence in the lives of all Palestinians for the past 40 years, Palestinian infighting has not. Unlike the ramifications, however dire, of a belligerent occupying force, the backlash from internal fighting may have such deep rooted consequences that years of rehabilitation cannot heal. Take for example, the media. All it takes is the click of a remote control and children are exposed to the poisonous rhetoric of Hamas and Fateh leaders, verbally slashing the other. Images of ransacked homes, flag-swathed martyrs and angry masked demonstrators pour out of thetelevision screen into the impressionable minds of children. The result? The unfortunate polarization of Palestinian society has inadvertently been passed down to the next generation.
Western children play games such as “cops and robbers” or the less politically correct“cowboys and Indians.” For a long time in Palestinian playgrounds or on side streets, children played “Israelis and Palestinians” mimicking Israeli gun-toting soldiers facing the more courageous and ultimately victorious stone-throwing Palestinians.
While the imitation of violence cannot be healthy for any child, the imitation of internal violence is that much more damaging. These days, innocent young mouths are parroting the venomous words of our leaders, calling this or that movement “treasonous”, blasting off curses against people that could easily have been their friends a few short years ago.
This is extremely dangerous and a point to which our leaders have been clearly blinded. The words and actions of politicians are not directed only to each other but to an entire population, children included. When a child witnesses the death of a family member at the hands of an Israeli soldier or settler, loss is no doubt tremendous. This is true for any death. How then, can this child be expected to process this loss when the death comes at the hands of a person he/she has seen before, someone who lives just down the street, who owns theneighborhood store or who is married to a distant relative?
Israel has done its share of damage to our young population, and will continue to do so as long as there is an occupying authority on our land. This is a fact that we, as a people must continue to confront and aim to annihilate until our last breath. However, the damage caused by this terrible fission between our political leaders is tenfold because our children will not know who the enemy is or why their neighbor “betrayed” them.
This will have long-lasting ramifications on our entire society. If we are ever to rid ourselves of the Israeli occupation and establish our own independent state, there will be innumerous wounds to heal. No doubt, those inflicted by Israel will eventually mend because they were perpetrated at the hands of a colonial force, one that openly attempted to obliterate the Palestinian national cause and usurp Palestinian national soil.
However, the gashing wounds left behind by this horrendous civil strife may never heal. We all know the story of Cain and Abel, one brother killing the other. Epics such as these were meant as lessons, for humans to learn from other human errors. Will Fateh and Hamas – or any other faction tempted to join the battle – finally realize that none of this can come to any good?
The responsibility of protecting our children from the Israeli occupation is already heavy enough. Let us not continue to create such deep wounds in our children that one day we will be powerless to mend them.
Joharah Baker is a Writer for the Media and Information Programme at the PalestinianInitiative for the Promotion of Global Dialogue and Democracy (MIFTAH).
By Joharah Barker
MIFTAH (Palestine)
August 15, 2007
In any seemingly inconsolable situation, you can always fall back on the maxim, “It could be worse.” There is truth in this, no doubt.
After watching, “Hotel Rwanda” in horror, I realized that our children have not yet seen their neighbors being hacked to death by another neighbor,or scores of bodies blocking off main roads.
So yes, it can be worse. But for Palestine’s children, it is bad enough. While our politicians continue to vie for meaningless positions of power, vilifying each other with an unprecedented vengeance and the Israeli army continues to invade, shell and kill our people, an entire generation is being raised and molded in a place that offers little hope for a healthy and prosperous future. Palestinian society, like many developing societies is mainly comprised of young people.
According to Save the Children, 53 percent of the population is under the age of 18, that is, approximately 1.2 million Palestinians. This is a significantly large sector of society andone which constitutes the future generation. However, what sort of future is in store for our children? What value system are they being raised on when everything around them is violence, poverty and dashed hopes?
The statistics alone speak volumes. Issues such as death, poverty, imprisonment or home demolition are difficult enough to comprehend for an adult, much less a child, whose main concern should be what new video game to play and not whether their house will remain intact overnight. However, our children are forced to face these issues every day, the psychological ramifications of which may not surface for years.
A total of 882 Palestinian children have been killed since the start of the Intifada in September 2000 as a result of Israeli military or settler violence up to June 2007. This is not including children killed in Palestinian internal violence, especially in Gaza, where at least seven child deaths were recorded in June, 2007 alone, according to Save the Children.
There are also over Palestinian 400 children being held in Israeli detention facilities. Then there are those children forced to live in abject poverty because their families have lost their jobs or their fathers are dead or imprisoned. Seven out of 10 households in theWest Bank and Gaza live in poverty, determined by the World Bank as living on $2/day or less.
The list goes on and on. How many Palestinian children have seen their homes demolished before their eyes, their fathers, brothers, sisters, killed before them or violently taken away byIsraeli forces? How many have been humiliated at checkpoints, their schoolbags carelessly flipped upside down and then left to be retrieved from the dusty ground?
These are rough circumstances for any human being to live under, much less children. Still,while the Israeli occupation has been a ubiquitous presence in the lives of all Palestinians for the past 40 years, Palestinian infighting has not. Unlike the ramifications, however dire, of a belligerent occupying force, the backlash from internal fighting may have such deep rooted consequences that years of rehabilitation cannot heal. Take for example, the media. All it takes is the click of a remote control and children are exposed to the poisonous rhetoric of Hamas and Fateh leaders, verbally slashing the other. Images of ransacked homes, flag-swathed martyrs and angry masked demonstrators pour out of thetelevision screen into the impressionable minds of children. The result? The unfortunate polarization of Palestinian society has inadvertently been passed down to the next generation.
Western children play games such as “cops and robbers” or the less politically correct“cowboys and Indians.” For a long time in Palestinian playgrounds or on side streets, children played “Israelis and Palestinians” mimicking Israeli gun-toting soldiers facing the more courageous and ultimately victorious stone-throwing Palestinians.
While the imitation of violence cannot be healthy for any child, the imitation of internal violence is that much more damaging. These days, innocent young mouths are parroting the venomous words of our leaders, calling this or that movement “treasonous”, blasting off curses against people that could easily have been their friends a few short years ago.
This is extremely dangerous and a point to which our leaders have been clearly blinded. The words and actions of politicians are not directed only to each other but to an entire population, children included. When a child witnesses the death of a family member at the hands of an Israeli soldier or settler, loss is no doubt tremendous. This is true for any death. How then, can this child be expected to process this loss when the death comes at the hands of a person he/she has seen before, someone who lives just down the street, who owns theneighborhood store or who is married to a distant relative?
Israel has done its share of damage to our young population, and will continue to do so as long as there is an occupying authority on our land. This is a fact that we, as a people must continue to confront and aim to annihilate until our last breath. However, the damage caused by this terrible fission between our political leaders is tenfold because our children will not know who the enemy is or why their neighbor “betrayed” them.
This will have long-lasting ramifications on our entire society. If we are ever to rid ourselves of the Israeli occupation and establish our own independent state, there will be innumerous wounds to heal. No doubt, those inflicted by Israel will eventually mend because they were perpetrated at the hands of a colonial force, one that openly attempted to obliterate the Palestinian national cause and usurp Palestinian national soil.
However, the gashing wounds left behind by this horrendous civil strife may never heal. We all know the story of Cain and Abel, one brother killing the other. Epics such as these were meant as lessons, for humans to learn from other human errors. Will Fateh and Hamas – or any other faction tempted to join the battle – finally realize that none of this can come to any good?
The responsibility of protecting our children from the Israeli occupation is already heavy enough. Let us not continue to create such deep wounds in our children that one day we will be powerless to mend them.
Joharah Baker is a Writer for the Media and Information Programme at the PalestinianInitiative for the Promotion of Global Dialogue and Democracy (MIFTAH).
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Heart-rending loss of Faith
This is a post from Marlin (Sally) Vis's blog (August 7).
He is "on the ground", preaching at The (Lutheran) Church of the Redeemer, working with the Lutherans and Anglicans (St. George's)
I preached Sunday, but my heart wasn’t in it. In fact, smack-dab in the middle of the message, I lost my faith.
It happened without warning. One minute I am bringing the Word, and the next, I have nothing to say – from the Word to no word. I went from looking out over the congregation seeking eye contact, to staring down at my notes, fighting the urge to step down from the pulpit and walk out of the building.
Actually, run out was more what I felt like doing.
A picture flashed on to some part of my brain – left or right I couldn’t say. But there it was, a snapshot that my mind’s eye had taken the day before. I didn’t see it coming, but I should have I guess. After all she kept me awake a good part of the night. She was on my mind when I woke, and I was thinking of her as I sat on the terrace going over the sermon for the last time. Seeing me sitting there, staring into nothing, Sally asked, “What are you thinking about?”“Nothing,” I said. I lied.
I was thinking about a different her than her, and didn’t want to talk about how this other she made me feel.
Then she just showed up in the middle of my preaching and drove away my faith.
She is four or five-years-old; I’m guessing four. She is wearing a black dress; I’m guessing she wears it everyday. She is barefoot; I’m guessing that she has shoes, but that they don’t fit. She has a runny nose, the green kind of runny nose; I’m guessing she has the green kind of runny nose most every day. She has empty eyes; I’m guessing she didn’t always have empty eyes. I’m guessing the light went out of her eyes the day she found out that not all children live in a place with no place to run and play.
She is a Palestinian refugee, living in a refugee camp on the edge of Bethlehem, the place where Joseph and Mary came to be counted. She doesn’t count. She is only a number – 7,000 children in this camp of 12,000 people. She doesn’t count; I’m guessing she knows it.
Her eyes are empty, but mine are not. Mine are filled with tears. Someone coughs and I remember where I am, who I am – preacher. I look up and see Sally with this panicked look on her face. I’ve been preaching with her in the audience for almost 30 years now, and I’ve never seen her with that look on her face. Well, actually that’s not true. I saw it one other time – the Sunday I lost my faith in the church.
How is it that God allows this to go on? How can God watch the light drain from the eyes of little girls in black dresses and not come rushing to the rescue? Is God too damn busy to help this little girl in the black dress and empty eyes? Does God count this little girl as one of his sheep? Does God know this tiny sheep is lost? Is God looking for her? Does God know she is looking for him?
I don’t want God to take anything away from any other child in order that this little girl has a place to run and play. Why does it have to be either/or? Is God only able to love the one child – only Sarah, not Hagar?
Is God’s heart so small that there is no room in it for little Hagar?
I’ve lost my faith. It’s a scandal, isn’t it? I’ve seen too many children with empty eyes to believe that there is a God who cares, a God who has the power to do anything. Oh, don’t get me wrong; I know that my missing faith is simply misplaced. I’ll soon find it. I know that there is a God who cares. I know there is a God who has the power to do something about all this. I know that God is angry. I know that God loves that little girl in the black dress and the empty eyes. I know all this because I know Jesus and I know that Jesus cares. I know that Jesus has the power to transform the world. I even know that the Spirit of Jesus will do just that. I know all of this, and even more than this. I just don’t believe it – not today anyway.
You get angry here. You do. You watch one people prosper as another people decline, and you get angry. On one side of the divide you see parks and playgrounds and nice schools and fountains and swimming pools, and on the other you see none of these. And you know that there is enough land for all the children to have a playground. You know that the little girl in the black dress with the empty eyes could have the same opportunities to run and play and learn as the little girls on the other side of the divide. You know this is true, and you also know that there is no heart to make it so, and no will to work for it. You get angry. You try not to, but you do.
You listen to politicians declare that the number one priority of the United States of America is to defend herself against Islamic extremists. And you just want to weep. You’ve see Islamic extremists, and Jewish and Christian extremists too, and you know that none of these is big enough or bad enough or important enough to be our number one priority. You’ve seen the little girl in the black dress and empty eyes, and you know that there are millions like her around the world, and you know in your heart that she is little enough and good enough to deserve to be every nation’s number one priority.
She’s not, and she knows she’s not, and you know she’s not too. And here’s the kicker – God knows she is not number one with us as well. I wonder how many times a day God loses his faith in us.I smiled at Sally, shook my head, muttered something about “preaching to the choir,” and went on. I preached. I prayed. I presided over the Lord’s Supper. I shook hands and thanked people for coming.
I went home, took a nap, and moved through the rest of the day and night. I got up Monday morning, put my feet on the ground and went to work.
My faith? Don’t worry; my faith is just lost, not gone. I’ll find it, because I can’t bear to be without it. The good news for me is that God doesn’t panic when I lose my faith. God understands, I think. God knows that I’ll live like I have faith whether I have faith or not. That’s why God likes me, I think – sees a little of himself in me, and in you too, I’d guess.
Thank God for that, huh?
God help us. Come Lord Jesus.
He is "on the ground", preaching at The (Lutheran) Church of the Redeemer, working with the Lutherans and Anglicans (St. George's)
I preached Sunday, but my heart wasn’t in it. In fact, smack-dab in the middle of the message, I lost my faith.
It happened without warning. One minute I am bringing the Word, and the next, I have nothing to say – from the Word to no word. I went from looking out over the congregation seeking eye contact, to staring down at my notes, fighting the urge to step down from the pulpit and walk out of the building.
Actually, run out was more what I felt like doing.
A picture flashed on to some part of my brain – left or right I couldn’t say. But there it was, a snapshot that my mind’s eye had taken the day before. I didn’t see it coming, but I should have I guess. After all she kept me awake a good part of the night. She was on my mind when I woke, and I was thinking of her as I sat on the terrace going over the sermon for the last time. Seeing me sitting there, staring into nothing, Sally asked, “What are you thinking about?”“Nothing,” I said. I lied.
I was thinking about a different her than her, and didn’t want to talk about how this other she made me feel.
Then she just showed up in the middle of my preaching and drove away my faith.
She is four or five-years-old; I’m guessing four. She is wearing a black dress; I’m guessing she wears it everyday. She is barefoot; I’m guessing that she has shoes, but that they don’t fit. She has a runny nose, the green kind of runny nose; I’m guessing she has the green kind of runny nose most every day. She has empty eyes; I’m guessing she didn’t always have empty eyes. I’m guessing the light went out of her eyes the day she found out that not all children live in a place with no place to run and play.
She is a Palestinian refugee, living in a refugee camp on the edge of Bethlehem, the place where Joseph and Mary came to be counted. She doesn’t count. She is only a number – 7,000 children in this camp of 12,000 people. She doesn’t count; I’m guessing she knows it.
Her eyes are empty, but mine are not. Mine are filled with tears. Someone coughs and I remember where I am, who I am – preacher. I look up and see Sally with this panicked look on her face. I’ve been preaching with her in the audience for almost 30 years now, and I’ve never seen her with that look on her face. Well, actually that’s not true. I saw it one other time – the Sunday I lost my faith in the church.
How is it that God allows this to go on? How can God watch the light drain from the eyes of little girls in black dresses and not come rushing to the rescue? Is God too damn busy to help this little girl in the black dress and empty eyes? Does God count this little girl as one of his sheep? Does God know this tiny sheep is lost? Is God looking for her? Does God know she is looking for him?
I don’t want God to take anything away from any other child in order that this little girl has a place to run and play. Why does it have to be either/or? Is God only able to love the one child – only Sarah, not Hagar?
Is God’s heart so small that there is no room in it for little Hagar?
I’ve lost my faith. It’s a scandal, isn’t it? I’ve seen too many children with empty eyes to believe that there is a God who cares, a God who has the power to do anything. Oh, don’t get me wrong; I know that my missing faith is simply misplaced. I’ll soon find it. I know that there is a God who cares. I know there is a God who has the power to do something about all this. I know that God is angry. I know that God loves that little girl in the black dress and the empty eyes. I know all this because I know Jesus and I know that Jesus cares. I know that Jesus has the power to transform the world. I even know that the Spirit of Jesus will do just that. I know all of this, and even more than this. I just don’t believe it – not today anyway.
You get angry here. You do. You watch one people prosper as another people decline, and you get angry. On one side of the divide you see parks and playgrounds and nice schools and fountains and swimming pools, and on the other you see none of these. And you know that there is enough land for all the children to have a playground. You know that the little girl in the black dress with the empty eyes could have the same opportunities to run and play and learn as the little girls on the other side of the divide. You know this is true, and you also know that there is no heart to make it so, and no will to work for it. You get angry. You try not to, but you do.
You listen to politicians declare that the number one priority of the United States of America is to defend herself against Islamic extremists. And you just want to weep. You’ve see Islamic extremists, and Jewish and Christian extremists too, and you know that none of these is big enough or bad enough or important enough to be our number one priority. You’ve seen the little girl in the black dress and empty eyes, and you know that there are millions like her around the world, and you know in your heart that she is little enough and good enough to deserve to be every nation’s number one priority.
She’s not, and she knows she’s not, and you know she’s not too. And here’s the kicker – God knows she is not number one with us as well. I wonder how many times a day God loses his faith in us.I smiled at Sally, shook my head, muttered something about “preaching to the choir,” and went on. I preached. I prayed. I presided over the Lord’s Supper. I shook hands and thanked people for coming.
I went home, took a nap, and moved through the rest of the day and night. I got up Monday morning, put my feet on the ground and went to work.
My faith? Don’t worry; my faith is just lost, not gone. I’ll find it, because I can’t bear to be without it. The good news for me is that God doesn’t panic when I lose my faith. God understands, I think. God knows that I’ll live like I have faith whether I have faith or not. That’s why God likes me, I think – sees a little of himself in me, and in you too, I’d guess.
Thank God for that, huh?
God help us. Come Lord Jesus.
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