Written by Cathy Keene Merchant
Pictures from Woodie Krugel and James Keene
Cathy Keene Merchant in Jerusalem
While returning home from TCLP’s recent delegation to Israel and Palestine, I grew nervous on the plane when I realized I would have to write something semi-conclusive about my latest experience in the Holy Land. The more time I spend in that part of the world and the more I learn about the conflict, the less able I am to give a succinct explanation of the situation and my personal views surrounding it. Virtually nothing in Israel and Palestine is simple or straightforward, and like a trip through the Old City of Jerusalem, my own thoughts get more complex and labyrinthine the deeper into the conflict I get. Fortunately, after spending the better part of three weeks writing, reading, and meditating on what I have seen and heard, I think I am finally ready to share a bit about my experience on our latest trip.
While I cannot say that this delegation was wholly different from what I had seen and heard before, many of the events that occurred during this delegation affected me on a very deep level and caused me to rethink several of my ideas regarding the situation.
Palestinian resident of Hebron, Hashem Azzeh with participant David Phillips
The first event came before the trip even began, at 3pm on our first day when a bomb went off at the Central Bus Station in Jerusalem, killing one woman and injuring approximately 30 others. It was the first bomb to explode in Jerusalem in almost seven years and, although it has not been claimed by any particular group, it is believed to have been set by a Palestinian. Our group wasn’t scheduled to arrive at our hotel in East Jerusalem until 7pm that day, so my co-leader Yael Petretti, our assistant Susan Kingston, and I waited out the fear and tension for four hours, until our six remaining delegates arrived. Three of them had actually been at that station within an hour of the bomb going off, but fortunately, no one was injured or had even heard about the blast until they met us at the hotel. We all started off the training that night somewhat shaken up and saddened by the news, wondering what the rest of the trip had in store, if this was how it started. For my part, I felt a mixture of kinship with the Israelis, as I imagined what it must have felt like for them during almost the entire Second Intifada, as well as the immense responsibility of co-leading this trip in such an unpredictable place. Up to a week before our departure, I had been telling participants and their families that we would do everything in our power to keep them safe during our journey, which is certainly no small responsibility in this region.
The next surprise to me came two days later, when we learned from Gil Gutglick, an Israeli activist from Jerusalem Solidarity, that the Knesset is in the process of passing a law that will criminalize any calls for academic, cultural, or economic boycotts against Israel, such that any Israeli or Palestinian found criticizing Israel in public may be fined up to 30,000 shekels (the equivalent of $8,900 USD) and foreigners may be denied entry into Israel for up to 10 years. Given all the recent talk of democracy in the Middle East, I personally found it troubling that the only country in that region that the US currently recognizes as a democracy is passing laws such as this that limit freedom of expression to such a degree.
Israeli settlement spokesperson Shifra Blass and participant Karrie Brothers
Later on in the trip, we visited with Israeli citizen Shifra Blass, a former spokesperson for the settler movement and longtime resident of Neve Tzuf, in the northern West Bank. Immediately following the recent murder of the Fogel family at the nearby settlement Itamar, Shifra was responsible for meeting with the extended family members and telling them about the grisly attack. She shared with us her horror upon first hearing about the murder and her doubts for future peace with “the people who commit murder like this.” While I found Shifra to be an immensely charming woman that I hope to see again in the future and I, too, was disgusted by this attack, there is still dispute about who killed this family, including the possibility that the crime was committed by a worker from Thailand. In addition, if we are to group all members of a party into the same category as the ones among them that will commit such atrocities, none of us will be free from blame, as all groups unfortunately have people who are capable of unspeakable actions. All the more reason for us to recognize each other as fellow human beings, rather than part of some “other” group, with which we have nothing in common.
The last event that has really stuck with me was our visit to the Bedouin village of Al Arakib in the Negev Desert, which was just destroyed by Israeli forces for the 23rd time, two days after we left. The Jewish National Fund and the Israel Land Authority have claimed the historic Bedouin lands of Al Arakib for forestation and future Jewish settlement. Rabbis for Human Rights and other activist groups keep bringing materials to the people of Al Arakib to help them rebuild their homes and replant their olive and fruit trees, but every few weeks, Israeli forces return and destroy whatever new tents or structures have been erected and uproot the trees. This process has been going on since last July and now the Israeli state attorney has announced plans to fine the villagers more than one million shekels for the cost of having demolished their homes. In my opinion, there are numerous things that are infuriating about this, not the least of which is that these villagers have already recognized the right of Israel to exist and have accepted Israeli citizenship. However, half of Israel’s Bedouin population now live in “unrecognized villages” such as Al Arakib. Given that these villages may be destroyed at any time so that Israeli settlers may move in, I don’t know how to view these governmental policies as anything other than racist.
Participants Larry Jacobson, Meredith Krugel, and Alexander Dreier help Aziz Abu Mudegem, Bedouin resident of Al Arakib, plant olive trees
While I was attempting to process events and sessions such as these, one of the participants asked me in private about half-way through the trip why it was that I seemed to be “pro-Palestinian,” if I was one of the people running this delegation, which was supposed to be “balanced.” His question threw me a bit off-guard, so I asked him if he thought our itinerary favored the Palestinians or if he did not like the way I practiced CL with our Israeli speakers or the way I discussed the conflict during our daily group debriefs. He told me no, that he thought the itinerary was very balanced and that my co-leader and I were doing a fine job educating the group about both sides, but that, when I spoke from my own personal views, I seemed to favor the Palestinians.
At the time, I was concerned that I might be misrepresenting CL to the group and that maybe I was not the proper spokesperson for this work. However, I have since gone on to think through this conversation many times and discuss it with other facilitators, and I have come to believe that there is a common misunderstanding about what it means to practice CL. Many people think that in order to be an effective CLer, you must hold no personal opinions about the situation, but this is simply not true. It is neither possible nor recommended for you to shut off your intellect in order to practice CL. For, if this were true, CL would need to be handled like a US court case, wherein only those who had no background views or knowledge about the subject would be able to act as an impartial jury and weigh the opposing views. Everyone else with any stake in the situation would need to sit out, as they had already proven themselves to be too biased to be of any help.
Instead, I would argue that the opposite is true in CL. The more biased and entrenched a person is in a given conflict, the more powerful their CL work can be in understanding and building relationships with people whom they may consider to be the “other.” When people who disagree can, through practicing CL, come to find the human being beyond the stereotype, reconciliation becomes possible. So it has been with our friends, Sulaiman Khatib, Gadi Kenny, and Jamal Muqbel, who shared with our group that they have been working together for the past several years through “Wounded Crossing Borders,” an organization – co-founded by Sulaiman and Gadi – that brings together Israelis and Palestinians who have been physically injured in the conflict but wish to reach out to the other side to reconnect with them as fellow human beings. At first, many of the participants who came to their meetings were angry and wanted to blame the other group for much of the conflict. But as time went on and they got to know one other better, they started opening up and beginning to listen to the pain and arguments expressed by the other side, such that they could start to see where their own views and actions had helped contribute to the fighting. Now, although they still disagree on many things, their friendship has changed their lives forever and they are committed to working together in the future. For this reason, Gadi and Jamal often travel to highly tense areas together – places such as Hebron and Sderot – to speak to the people on both sides and apologize for the violence committed by their own group. This process of rehumanization and teaching others to see one another as people, rather than faceless enemies, is the main goal of CL. This is the place from which solutions are born.
Psychologist Shimona Grodzin-Ceasary, Israeli resident of Sderot, with participants Melissa Mullan and Meredith Krugel
In addition, I think it is important to understand that one does not have to be a complete moral relativist in order to practice CL. For my part, if I seem to be pro-Palestinian, it is because I am a Buddhist pacifist who views violence as morally wrong and detrimental, and I am horrified by the actions taken by the Israeli government in the Occupied Territories to appropriate land owned by the Palestinians. At the same time, I am horrified by Hamas-led suicide bombings and rocket attacks against civilians and shootings and in no way condone violence committed against Israelis, no matter where they live. However, for me, the actions taken by Israel are more disturbing, because they are more frequent, affect many more people, and are embedded in a system of government that I find to be racist (such as the laws surrounding Palestinians not being allowed to use certain roads or city streets within the West Bank, the constant curfews, the Gaza siege, the bulldozing of houses, collective punishment, etc). To make matters worse, because I am a US citizen, my tax dollars go towards the $3 billion per year that the US gives Israel in military aid, so I am literally helping pay for this.
To say that I am unhappy about the situation would be a serious understatement, but that doesn’t mean I hate Israelis or see them all as militaristic or even blame them for the actions of their government. They are as dissimilar from one another as members of any other group would be, and just as I hope not to be blamed for the US war in Iraq, I hope people will see that Israelis are not all responsible for their government’s actions, either. As I said before, we must all see one another as human beings first, before we attach any secondary labels. In addition, the reason I shy away from being called “pro Palestinian” is because I care deeply for Israelis as well as for Palestinians, including my many Israeli friends. I protest several of their government’s actions because I believe they make the Israelis as unsafe as they make the Palestinians. Public approval for Israel is failing, and I am worried about the future of both peoples.
My deep concern for both Israelis and Palestinians has led me to make a difficult decision: in order to continue on with my work in this region and deepen my understanding of the conflict, I have decided to pursue a master’s degree in Middle Eastern Studies at the University of Washington. My program begins in June with a Summer Intensive Hebrew Study, so I’ll be leaving my position with TCLP next week. I am immensely thankful to Leah, Therese, and Yael, as well as the rest of the facilitators and international community, for all that they have taught me over these past few years, and for the trust they’ve shown in me in doing this incredible work. I thank you all so much for your assistance and friendship, and I look forward to “cross-pollinating” our work in the future, as I intend to continue to practice CL as I prepare to take a stand for what I feel is morally right and just.
