U4 Tradition & Traición of the Ivri
Jacob Rosenblum
Western Ramallah district, has been holding weekly protests against
the nature of the "Separation Barrier" for two years now. I'm
currently in a bus filled with Israelis coming from Jerusalem, and
topped off with Internationals.
Rest well, friends, because I can tell you now that if you're reading
this, I have survived this highest-risk jaunt that I have undergone
into the Palestinian territories. In the last two years over 600
people have been injured at the weekly protests in Bil'in. (about 6
per demo). This is going to be an especially large demo, 50 from
Jerusalem, 150 from Tel Aviv.
Now, on to recount my favorite parts of last week. For Rosh Chodesh,
Sunday night, I studied Rambam with my friend Jitzchak (pronounced
like Yitzchak), and some longbeard from Croatia (whose name I don't
remember) in a room full of Chassidish men. We read Chapter 18 of
something or other from Mishneh Torah. It was about how you determine,
for ritual reasons, that it's a new month. After reading for maybe 20
minutes, Jitz breaks out a bottle of Vodka, and pours it around, and
has us offer a br'acha (blessing) for the other two people. Then the
next morning I woke up early (6:45ish) and met up with Jitz to study
Chasidut with Rav Brat at Simchat Shlomo. It was a great morning, it
was really sweet to be among these Jewish learners, and eating
hamentaschen and drinking tea with this Rabbi. The learning isn't
compartmentalized: human needs are addressed as an equivalent
important aspect of learning.
On Wednesday after Ulpan, I brought Maja and Josh into Ramallah. I met
Josh the week before at a lunch with some friends of mine, and he
mentioned something about wanting to go into the West Bank with
civilian clothing. I offered to bring him in if he wanted, and he took
me up on it. We got a later start, and didn't get to the service
taxis' station until 2:30 or so. We ended up waiting a while, but
eventually got one.
Maja had never been to Ramallah before, but Josh had. He was in the
Israeli military in 2002, driving tanks down the road, as part of
Operation Defensive Shield. I can't quote you the Rambam on it, I know
the mitzvah of bringing someone who used to be a soldier somewhere
back as a "regular" (foreign) person, and "rehumanizing" that space
for them has got to be in the Top 613.
What courage, to confront the fear that has been driven into you of
the people around you; and equally, to give up your positionalism and
just to accept what is offered.
We met with a Palestinian friend of mine in Ramallah, and sat for a
short while at a nargila bar, the same place where I had watched a
demonstration the week before. We went walking through Ramallah, what
a trip! Seeing places I remembered from three years ago. Like: there
used to be a falafel stand right there! And: that's where I used to
catch a service to Budrus! Mansour told us that the place where the
service taxis brought us initially into Ramallah used to not be there;
it used to be a police station.(1)
But today in Ramallah, it was a beautiful day out, and I could eat as
much falafel as I wanted. Josh, on the other hand is strictly kosher,
and for some reason there aren't too many kosher restaurants in
Ramallah. Maja asked a lot of questions. Mansour knew lots of people
on the street, and seemed to have lots of brothers and uncles and
such, who he would shake hands. I wanted to see Biddu, where I had
protested three years ago, the town where Mansour is from, Northwest
of Jerusalem, so the four of us piled into a service.
A couple of checkpoints later, we cruised into the little town where
our host grew up. Many Palestinian homes have a totally decked out
home with art and nice couches and nice tables, as a sort of visitor
hosting room. It's quite incredible, and sometimes a little difficult
to feel comfortable in, because it's kind of over-the-top. But it
really demonstrates Palestinian commitment to being good hosts! I kind
of remember my grandparents having a room like this, it was the room
that I never went into!
We had an interesting discussion, that ranged from religion (kosher
vs. halal), to visa issues, to effective/ineffective protesting. Josh
made a good connection with Mansour and his wife, and I hope they are
able to keep in touch.
One interesting facet of the dynamics of protests in the OPT is that
the Israelis who are most willing to come are anarchists, often with
ripped clothing, dyed hair, and dietary restrictions, all of which are
completely backwards within a Palestinian cultural framework. And as
committed as these anarchists become their extreme social liberalism
may prevent them from understanding these communities that they are in
solidarity with; at the end of the day, there will be a high level of
distancing.
On the other hand, a black-hatter, while typically politically
disconnected from, if not opposed to the political stances of their
Palestinian neighbors, would be able to relate much more in terms of
living a traditional lifestyle, and therefore having similar customs,
joys, and struggles, internally. So my progressive religious friends
here in Jerusalem, they are high quality candidates for creating
meaningful relationships with Palestinians, hopefully able to
transcend both political and religious differences elegantly.
Another thing that I've learned (and re-learned) in the last month or
two is how important it is for this journey to be owned by the
journey-goer. While I may help to facilitate someone crossing a
border, I may offer some advice, a key perspective, this journey is
not mine. Josh thanked me over and over again, smiling wide, for
helping him make this journey across. This is a broader principle than
just this context in which I'm writing; it's a basic issue of
empowerment. If I say that I *brought* him into the West Bank (like I
wrote above), I'm missing a major point. I helped guide him into the
West Bank; he brought himself. This also helps relieve the extreme
responsibility attached to doing *anything* contrary to societal
standards.
The I-told-you-so's would quite clearly point out that there were
three Americans, not too different from our little group, that got
kidnapped just the day before, in Nablus.(2)
Forgive them, chevre, for they do not realize what violence it is to
uphold a social standard of people not being able to experience
others' lives, fully. This is holy work we do here, we cannot let it
be guided by the conventional wisdom of the masses, guided by
deception and fear.
These very same social standards tricked my mother into struggling
with the fact that I dropped out of high school. "You've chosen a
different path, I don't know how to help you with it." I beg of you,
friend: cross these boundaries. The world needs it. Learn to trust
your mind, and be able to do those things that systems of oppression
would have you feel safer not knowing about. When you stand out in
this way, you give the rest of us permission to do the same.
B'ahavah,
Ya'akov m'oly
Jacob in J-Town
ps more in a couple days. My writings are being posted to a blog, too,
so you can send the web-address to friends if you don't want to
forward emails. http://jake.doesstuff.com
(1) Mansour filled us in on a version of the story: at the inception
of the current Intifada, two Israelis were held at the police station
there, before a mob of Palestinians killed them, and mutilated their
bodies. Commentary: an Italian camera crew captured the frenzied
masses celebrating their kill. This was in the aftermath of Israeli
forces killing over 100 Palestinians in the first week of the Intifada
in October 2000. Josh later filled us in that this moment is etched
into the memory of most Israelis alive today, and known as The Lynch
(Ha-Lynch). Before this, Israeli forces expected Palestinian police to
cooperate with them on some level.
The police station got turned into rubble, as well as many other
places throughout the West Bank, as a take-home lesson.
(2) http://www.guardian.co.uk/worldlatest/story/0,,-6428500,00.html