Pain of Reconciliation

It is only in the last month that I heard the word "Naqba" (spelt with q or k in the Anglisized form). It is an Arabic word which means "catastrophe". Palestinians use the word to describe May 15, 1948 when the state of Israel was created and many thousands of Palestinians were forced from their homes and not allowed to return, many others were killed in this period. It is a sad part of Palestinian history which their people remember in the same way that the Holocaust was a hideous time in Jewish history that Jews and many others remember or that people in New York remember 9/11. I do not want to compare these horrors and indicate one was worse than other, no doubt far more people were systematically killed in the Holocaust especially in comparison with 9/11, but that does not make the disaster any different in scale for those effected.

In March 2011 the Israeli government passed the "Nakba Law" in which any organisation that marks Nakba Day, even a school, will lose any government funding. Since 20% of the population in Israel (not including the Occupied Territories) is Arab, this has a huge effect on how this community's history can be taught.

On the way out of Tel Aviv on June 3 I bought a copy of the International Herald Tribune: Jerusalem Edition, inside was included Haaretz, an Israeli newspaper for a predominantly Israeli audience with a version in English that caught my eye since it seemed to have what I would have thought were lots of controversial articles. One article was called "Port in a Storm" by Shay Fogelman and the introduction of the article read as follows:

"The mass flight of Haifa's Arabs remains one of the most contested events of the 1948 war. Yet despite strong evidence to support Arab claims, Israeli historians remain economical with the truth."

The article focuses mainly on the events of April 22, 1948 when, during ongoing ceasefire negotiations between Jews and Arabs of Haifa, members of Haganah (the army of Palestinian Jews prior to Israeli independence) started shelling Arab citizens gathered in the market square and how that caused the final fleeing of the Arabs from the city. The final paragraph of the article refers to a conversation with a small group of older Arab men who still live in the city of Haifa as they reflect on their memories of Nakba.

"They take great pride in the deep, friendly relations they maintain with their Jewish neighbours; a few of them say they have been involved over the years in attempts to draw Jews and Arabs closer together. From their viewpoint, the Nakba is a historical fact which needs no confirmation or legislation. Nor, in their view, need it frighten or threaten the Jewish presence in the country. As Awda al-Shehab says, "Only after we recognize mutually the suffering that was endured by the two peoples will we be able to create a common future. That is the true key to coexistence. Without it, each side will continue to live in the past.""

As I have been thinking over how solutions are reached to seemingly intransigent problems I have been heartened to be reading "God Has a Dream: A Vision of Hope for Our Time" by Desmond Tutu, a man who has lived through and personally heard in so much detail the terrible things that man can do and yet has a vibrant faith and seems full of fun. I am old enough to recall that as a teenager, so many people were almost resigned to the idea that change from apartheid would only happen in South Africa through a blood bath. It seemed ridiculous to envisage Nelson Mandela being released from prison, let alone being the President of the nation and standing to welcome people as South Africa first hosted the Rugby World Cup and then later the Football World Cup.

Of course I am aware that very many factors influenced the situation in South Africa or other events like the falling of the Iron Curtain/Berlin Wall in those years. But still I remember the huge surge of excitement and hope I felt waking up to the news the Berlin Wall had been breached in my first month as a university student or searching out televisions at lunch time during work site visits to watch all races of South Africans queue to cast their votes in the elections of 1994 and my utter shock at a colleague who had no idea what the news story was about. There can be change and occasions of good news and healing even after so much pain and conflict.

Sadly in that same year of 1994, 800,000 Rwandan's were brutally killed by their neighbours and while one part of the human family celebrates another part wounds or grieves. Yet even there, as many people's ability to hate was manipulated for terrible purposes there were those who were willing to die themselves to try and defend their neighbours of a different tribe.

Human beings do painful and unjust things to one another, as well as loving and kind things. Reconciliation can only happen when a relationship is broken and we can admit it is broken and reconciliation is painful, the process of healing itself is normally painful.

Desmond Tutu writes in his chapter "God Loves Your Enemies" the following:

"Forgiving and being reconciled to our enemies or our loved ones is not about pretending that things are other than they are. It is not about patting one another on the back and turning a blind eye to the wrong. True reconciliation exposes the awfulness, the abuse, the pain, the hurt, the truth. It could even sometimes make things worse. It is a risky undertaking, but in the end it is worthwhile, because in the end dealing with the real situation helps to bring real healing. Superficial reconciliation can bring only superficial healing."

Graffiti on Israel's Separation Barrier in Bethlehem

Palestinian Walks

Not long finished reading "Palestinian Walks" by Raja Shehadeh, a Palestinian lawyer who lives in Ramallah and who founded Al-Haq human rights organisation before becoming an author. It was very helpful in increasing my knowledge after my visit to Israel and the West Bank and written in a very readable style. It is based around 7 hikes in the countryside of Palestine that the author made between the years of 1970 and 2007. My review is already posted on Amazon so I won't repeat that here. Palestinian Walks

Endeavouring not to quote too much, and thus breach copyright, I have selected a brief section from a conversation that Raja had when he stumbled on a gun-carrying Israeli settler on one of his walks (p 193-4 in the book). Settler is a term used for Israelis who live in Jewish only communities that have been built on land which is deemed to be Palestinian under international law. Settlements are seen as one of the five main issues that Israelis and Palestinians disagree on, as both Israelis and Palestinians know how difficult it will be for a resolution that gives Palestinians full access back to their land when there are, in many cases, large townships of Israelis living on Palestinian land. There was recently a temporary cessation of building of settlements at the request of the US government, but building has resumed. Shehadeh's conversation shows that even when Arabs and Jews live in close proximity, the barriers mean they still know nothing of each other.

"I suspected you were an Arab but was not sure. Arab's don't walk."

"How do you know that? Are you acquainted with many Arabs?" 

"No. None at all."

"Then how did you come upon that conclusion?"

"Just from watching the village people nearby. I never see them taking walks or sitting by the water."

"Perhaps because they're afraid?"

"Why should they be afraid?"

"Because of you."

"Of me?"

"Yes aren't you carrying a gun?"

"I wish I wasn't. It's heavy and it's a burden. But as I said, I have to."

I couldn't help saying: "I suppose you do" in a heavily sarcastic voice though I regretted doing so almost immediately. I was inviting a fight when I had no stomach or inclination to get into one.

"What do you mean?" the settler snapped.

"To protect the land you've taken from us," I said in a matter of fact way, resigned to what was coming.

"We didn't take anyone's land. Dolev is built entirely on public land."

"Assuming it is, why should you be the only beneficiaries?"

"Because it was promised to us. All of Eretz Israel is ours."

"And where do you propose we live?"

"Eretz Israel" being the land included within the Biblical Promised Land. To understand the concept of how Israel determines "public land" within the Occupied Territories you'd have to read the book and if you're interested in such things I would certainly recommend it.

  Countryside around Nazareth

 Wilderness on the way to Jericho

 A small Jewish settlement close to Bethlehem, near the Shepherd's fields

Bethlehem's Pressures

Having visited Bethlehem earlier in this month in my first ever visit to Israel and Palestine, I was surprised to catch on BBC iPlayer last week an interview given by the Archbishop of Canterbury on "World at One" where he mentioned the pressure that Christians were under in Bethlehem as part of general comments on the difficulties Christians face in the Middle East. His rationale was that the Christian population was reducing due to migration partly for economic reasons and also as a result of the pressure that they felt due to the movement of more Muslims into the area as they in turn escaped the pressures of other towns like Hebron. Archbishop of Canterbury on World at One 14 June 2011

Not once in the interview did the Archbishop mention the words "Israel" or "occupation". Whatever one's views of the Israel/Palestinian problem it is not possible to talk about the situation of Christians in Bethlehem or any other part of the West Bank without mentioning Israel. Hearing the interview reminded me of an article I'd read in The Guardian the week before I went to Israel on the bias in the BBC's reporting on Israel and Palestine and the strength of the pro-Israel lobby in challenging anything reported which they could see as negative about their actions in Israel or the Occupied Territories. Had the Archbishop been told he couldn't mention Israel? And why would he comply with such a comment? Dr Rowan Williams seems a highly intelligent man with a desire for justice, why would he so misrepresent the situation? Certainly Christians in Bethlehem were not pleased with his comments. Letter from Kairos Palestine. It is important to be able to speak out against Israeli state policy or unjust incidents, without being afraid of the challenge of being anti-Semitic. If for example I were to speak out against the war in Iraq and British policy there it does not make me anti-British, simply opposed to a policy.

During our 5 days in Bethlehem as a church group we had the privilege of meeting a number of Palestinian Christians of different denominations, all of whom under difficult circumstances believed in non-violent means of attaining justice and peace for Palestine. Not one of them mentioned pressure from an increased Muslim population in the town, all be it that there has been an increase. Instead they mentioned the oppression of the 9m high wall which surrounds the town and most of the West Bank, including large areas that the UN in 1948 allocated to Palestine. Only about 5% of the Bethlehem population have permits to go into Israel on the other side of the wall and the few that can go to work in Jerusalem only 6 miles away have to queue for at least 2 hours each morning to get through the security checkpoints at the one exit Palestinians are allowed to use. The wall and it's watchtowers dominate the town and as in all the West Bank divide people from their land or their customers.  As a couple of Bethlehem residents commented wryly, if Jesus were to be born these days, the wall and checkpoints would prevent Mary and Joseph from reaching Bethlehem from Nazareth. Worse still are the checkpoints within the West Bank which limit the movement of Palestinians from one town to another that are supposedly under their control as part of the Oslo Accord.

What I did learn during my 7 days in the Holy Land is far more than I can fit in a few blog posts, but despite the fact I thought I was a person with an above average grasp of world affairs I realised more than anything how little I really knew, how difficult solutions are but how unsustainable the current oppression of Palestinians is and how difficult Israeli policy makes it for everyday Israelis and Palestinians to get to know one another. Israel, however is certainly not alone in this world, in taking the natural shock and fear related to acts of violence which have been perpetuated against their people (as well as the Palestinians) and using it to breed a culture of fear and of the idea of having a superior claim to righteousness in one's cause. Sadly over the last century a far greater number of Jews have lost their lives at the hands of Europeans than of Arabs.

I suspect reflections on my trip will constitute the main part of the next few posts I make, but for now I'll end commenting on how surprised I was with the warmth of the welcome we felt from the people we met in Bethlehem, not only our guides and special guests, but people working in shops and wedding guests awaiting the exit of the bride and groom at the Church of the Nativity. I could walk alone on the streets without feeling the unease you can in some other parts of the world.

Big or Beautiful or Both?

Now I know that whilst preferred shape and shade can be personal, it is also always culturally linked and can vary with the era as well as the place. When I visit home all tanned from the Nicaraguan sun, people invariably comment how healthy I look - the concept supposedly coming from the idea in more recent years of a tan as an indication of enough wealth to travel overseas on vacation and perhaps the fact that you should feel more relaxed and healthy after a holiday. A hundred years or so ago the palest skin was prized as a indication of sufficient wealth to avoid manual work in the sun.

Whilst sun beds are marketed to the pale skinned, bleaching products are promoted to the darker skinned.

Size matters too and also how it's talked about. In Guyana no-one would hesitate to say "you getting fat" or "you getting fine" or that I was "putting on/throwing off size", it was just a friendly observation and sometimes I felt that I was going from "putting on" to "throwing off" size so fast it must have been ounces, not pounds they were talking about! My brain knows the British obsession with thin as the ideal form is not realistic or even always desirable, but none the less I warned several friends not to ever say to someone in the UK that they were fat or even getting there - at least not if they hoped the other person might speak to them again.

Even health charts seem to be geared towards the cultural norms. My 6'2" dad, who's been thin all his life was all of a sudden last year according to his doctor's charts deemed as getting close to "obese", whilst my weight, with definitely a higher Body Mass Index, was deemed the high end of normal, not even quite making it into "overweight" by my Nicaraguan doctor. In fact the doctor who attended me told me I shouldn't lose weight as my face would start to look gaunt and I'd look older. No diets, that's what I like!

In a Spanish-English dictionary if you look up the word "hermosa" you will see the definition "beautiful". However when "hermosa" is used in Nicaragua it generally means chubby, plump or fat. I haven't worked out whether that's because fatter is beautiful, or whether it's simply a nicety. So despite knowing other cultures I've lived in don't have the same view of size or even talking about size and that they don't have the terrible British underlying correlation that fat means ugly I was surprised to find myself abruptly irritated when a smiling work colleague told me I looked "beautiful" in my jeans after returning from a recent holiday during which I'd eaten a lot. Made me wonder how even living abroad for quite long periods we carry so much internalised beliefs from our culture, even largely illogical ones, and how potentially damaging that can be to good understanding and relations with others.

To Blog or Not to Blog?

A question that I’ve had for a few years now but there are always three big deterrents that have held me back.

1.       Firstly it of course seems terrible arrogant that I should think I have something sufficiently interesting to say that other people want to read it. It may be possible to have the occasional engaging thought, but can I manage it consistently? There is an idea among my friends that because I live in a foreign country my life is somehow more interesting, but after the first year you stop noticing most of the differences, life is normal just a different normal.

2.       Secondly privacy seems to be a sensible thing, why would I want to put my musings in an almost uncontrollable public domain?

3.       Finally on leaving Guyana, after it being my home for more than 3 years, a Guyanese friend gave me some good advice, he told me to be careful what I told people of Guyana and my experiences there. His reasoning was sound, almost everyone I would speak to would have no knowledge of Guyana and therefore their entire opinion of that country and its people would be based on what I said to them. Since few people know where Guyana is and it rarely makes the news he was perfectly right, for good or for bad I had become an unofficial “Ambassador” for Guyana and despite the difficulties you inevitably face living in a different culture and country I knew I wanted to be a good ambassador.

I have noticed that in some popular books of travel-writing the author seems to relish pointing out the idiosyncrasies of the host community to which he or she is visiting and the longer I live abroad the more that style of writing irritates me, it seems so superior trying to gain laughs at others’ way of doing things. It is inevitable that we will all notice differences when we spend time in other cultures, but I think to live well we need to recognise that differences have their reasons and “our” way of doing things may be better in some ways and “their” culture is better at others. I am not always successful at living with and among others culturally different from me with an attitude of learning, but I hope I’m getting better.

Being an outsider, sometimes we see more clearly and sometimes what we think we see we’ve totally misinterpreted. Being an outsider should mean we learn to see our own culture a little more clearly too and that also can be uncomfortable.

So, obviously, the fact you are reading this means I have decided to take the plunge and try to blog. Hopefully I will manage to be a good ambassador, but not a false one, and in that offer a little more understanding of our common humanity as well as offering a few of the cultural frustrations and mishaps that inevitably face “the outsider.”