Hope and Disappointment

UPDATE: Due to a few worrying responses to this post, I feel compelled to clear a few things up:

"I have to emphasize to you that Palestinians aren't close minded. Neither are Muslims. Most folks are open minded, accepting people. You have to understand where I was. Try going to hicksville Iowa and telling them you're Iranian. Or even Jewish. Or that you think women can do anything. You'll get the same response. It's not as easy as "Islam is closed minded". That's not true. Each society has its liberals and conservatives. Hell, the tea party in America has become a mainstream political movement, and is trying to tell us that Islam equates terrorism, that being gay is a choice, and that evolution isn't real. You have to understand that I was dealing with the same segment of society. The majority of Palestinians aren't like that. And no, Islam is not close minded, and it is not a fundamental Palestinian belief. I think you will find that very religious Jews are just as closed minded as very religious Muslims. Very religious Christians are just as closed-minded as the other two. I just happened to be dealing with those religious folks, that's all."


Okay, just wanted to clear that up, now on to the post.....

As I said before, my English classes in Jenin were a great forum for exploring what various Palestinian young think about a variety of issues. My classes were "conversational English" classes, so my goal was really to get them to talk as much as possible. Fortunately for me, the only topics that would convince everyone to talk were really controversial topics like the conflict, gender relations, religion, etc...The classes gave me a small window into what some Palestinians (albeit the more conservative ones) think about life. Unfortunately, I was disappointed by some of the things I heard last week.

In one of my classes a while back, I brought up the issue that in France, signs if religion are not allowed in public schools. Muslim women can't wear the hijab, Jews can't wear yarmulkes, you can't have a visible cross necklace, etc...I asked them what they thought. Not surprisingly, they said it was awful. They said it was horrible, unthinkable, outrageous. I asked why. They said because its their culture, their religion. They have to show their religion. Besides which, they said, people should be free to do what they want. If people want to express their religion in public schools, they should be able to. I agreed. However, I said, there is one thing we have to understand. A huge part of French culture is Secularism. It's an insanely ingrained part of their culture. Religion should not be shown in public. In French society, religion is generally a private affair. I don't necessarily agree with their policy, but I know that the French are not huge fans of public displays of religion because of their unique history and experience. 

The class wasn't so keen on my argument. I tried to explain it in a way they would understand. I said "Look, in the U.S., in the summertime, women don't dress like they do here. They wear real short shorts, tight shirts, and flip flops." The reaction was ridiculous. "Outrageous, its like their naked...." I asked what they would think if a girl was walking down the street outside like that, and they said it would be "unacceptable". When I asked why, the general answer was "It's part of our culture". I said exactly, your culture is such that it is not appropriate for women to walk around like that. Similarly, French culture is such that outward shows of religion are not really that acceptable. They value being very secular. They value separating religion and public life. One guy in class said "You can't do that. You can't separate religion and public life". I said no, you can't do that. It doesn't mean other people or other cultures can't. He then started to tell me that secular countries in the west that separate religion and government have little morals, and that they are bad people. I asked him if he thought I was a bad person. Of course he said no, but I kept pressing, "Then what do you mean?" One girl jumped in, and started to tell me that in Mohammad's time, in Islamic societies, there no crime. Literally, no crime whatsoever. Needless to say I was incredulous. She said that there was crime now because people have strayed from Islam. Right.

It's not that I blame them for disagreeing with me. It's not that I dislike the fact that they feel differently than I do. On the contrary, I totally understand why we feel differently. What disappointed me is that they were not willing to believe that people could live differently and still be good people. They weren't willing to accept that we could choose to live a different way and still be nice, kind, ethical people. That is why I was upset. They understood that different cultures existed, and people acted differently because of that, but they weren't willing to accept that difference.

In another class, we were talking about the conflict, and eventually, talk got to religion. The class asked me what my religion was. I tried to skirt the question, but they kept pressing. I eventually said "I don't have a religion". Then they asked, "Do you believe in God?" Again, I tried to skirt the question. I ended up saying "It's questionable". Shocked, one of the kids asked me "So what do you think happens when we die? Nothing?" I said I don't know, maybe we just die and nothing happens. All of a sudden, this kid starts preaching to me. He starts telling me about how the angel Gabriel brought the word of God to Mohammad, and what he told him, etc...I asked to him to please stop. I said I know the story, and I don't really want to hear it. He said "You don't understand. It's my job to tell you the truth, and then you can decide". I very politely said thank you, but no, it is my job to find the truth for myself. He said that it is part of their culture, that they should talk about the word of God to others. I said that although I understand, I would appreciate it if he respected my culture as well, and not preach to me. I tried to explain that truth is subjective (i had to explain the word "subjective"), and that other people might have other "truths". I said that although he might believe something is "the truth", someone else might not think that, and that's okay. I asked, "what if I said I was Christian. Or Jewish? Would you say I was wrong? That my "truth" was wrong?" It's okay to believe what you believe, but it's not okay to think others are always and totally wrong. After that some girl said "I will tell you a story". It was a story about this Jewish kid who would always go to a store owned my a Muslim man, buy a comic book, and steal a piece of candy. One day, the kid forgot to steal a piece of candy, and the store owner ran after him, giving him his daily piece of candy. After that, the kid would always go and talk to the shopkeeper. Every time, he had a problem, he would talk to the shop keeper, and he would pull out a book, read it, and give him an answer the his problem (I think you know where this story is going). One day the old man dies, and his brother gives the Jewish kid his book. Lo and behold, it ends up being the Qur'an (who would've guessed).

Look, I try my hardest to be 'culturally relative' here. I know that folks here come from a different culture, a different history, and live in a different environment. I understand that they think differently, that religion affects their lives in a different way than it does mine. I know that, and I am accepting of that. I am accepting of the fact that the disagree with what I think. That's okay. However, at some point I have to stop and say "No. That's fucked up. I think you are straight up wrong." And that point comes when folks here are not accepting of other cultures. Or when they say that "women can't be judges because they can't make decisions well". I have to fundamentally disagree with that. There is no "understanding that they have a different culture" here, I have to admit that I think it's simply fucked up and ignorant. I have specific values, but I also strongly value tolerance, and most of all, pluralism. I have to admit that as culturally relative as I try to be, I find myself thinking that I fundamentally disagree with some of the people here. I am able to be accepting of people totally different from me, and some of the folks here are not.

But there are reasons to be hopeful. In another class, we were talking about euthanasia. Most people disagreed with euthanasia. But I asked whether they thought it should be illegal. One guy said yes, it should. I asked why, and he said that because Allah says that you cannot take a life, that "our religion" says so. I asked "but should that be the law of Palestine, because Islam says so?". He said yes, we are a "Muslim" land. Immediately, everyone else in class disagreed. They said no, this is not a Muslim land. They emphasized that even in the Qur'an it says that this is a Muslim, Christian, and Jewish land.

They guy said that well, the majority are Muslim, and there are certain Palestinian traditions that should be respected because of that. I asked "what about Palestinian Christians? They are a pretty sizable minority. There are people who call themselves Palestinian, but are not Muslim. What about them?" The guy said that yes, there are Christians, but since Palestine is mostly Muslim, it should be a "Muslim" country. Again, everyone else in class disagreed. They said yes, Christians are also Palestinians. They emphasized that there are also Jews in Palestine, and they are also Palestinians. They said that Palestine is not just Muslim land, but it is holy to three religions. It is accommodating to three religions. I found that very nice. Not everyone here is closed minded or absolutist, just some people are. The majority of people, and in fact the majority of my classes, felt this same way.

Another thing I have found particularly hopeful here is that no one ever says anything disparaging about Jews. People may hate Israelis, but no one hates Jews. In fact, when talking to me about the conflict, most people specifically delineate between Jews and Israelis. I have hear one, just one negative comment about Jews my entire time here. People emphasize that they do not hate Jews here, they just hate the Israeli occupation. I greatly appreciate that.

Basically, my biggest cause for hope is that Palestine is not the "Palestine" you hear about in the papers, or on television. People here are like people everywhere else. They want to get an education, succeed, have families, and be happy. It's very, very safe here. I have never felt unsafe in my time here. In fact, I have felt more unsafe walking around certain neighborhoods in L.A. than I have ever felt here. People are extremely welcoming and friendly. As soon as people find out I'm American (which is inevitable because my accent when I speak Arabic is terrible), they bend over backwards to help me out. Taxi drivers are super nice to me and help figure out where to go. I've had people walk blocks with me when I ask them for directions. Super nice, super friendly people. You can be assured of that. All we hear about Palestine in the west is the conflict. Daily life is not news, but fighting is. Palestinians are extremely friendly people. They are also very trusting people. A couple weeks ago, I took my clothes to a dry cleaners to be washed. When I picked them up, I didn't have enough money to pay for it. First that man offered me my clothes for free, but I refused. Then he gave me my clothes, and said "Don't worry about it. Come back later and give me the money. Come back tomorrow or the next day, whenever you have time." And I left with my clothes.

Palestine is a beautiful place, with beautiful people. Trust me, there is nothing to be afraid of. 

Jenin

Jenin is a funny kind of place. When I look out from the roof of the apartment where I live, it kind of looks like Los Angeles. There are hillside homes, and lights sprawling out into the distance. Except that those sprawling lights are often Israeli settlements. That’s what makes this place so weird. When you look out from a high place, you can see Israel. You can see the wall. You can see disputed borders and disputed territory.

Jenin is a pretty small town. It has a population of maybe 50,000 people. It’s not very big. It’s generally a farming town. The center of town is a 4 block by 6 block area of very dense population. Most buildings are 4 or 5 stories, with shops on the bottom and either apartments or offices on top. The streets are narrow and crowded. There are sidewalks, but for some reason no one uses them. The streets are packed with pedestrians, cars, tractors, shepards and their big herds of sheep and goats, and sometimes horses and camels all jockeying for space. It’s weird. Even when you walk away from the center of town, the buildings still tend to be a few stories high, with shops on the bottom and apartments on top. Space is very limited here, so you have to make good use of it.

Jenin is a “city” mostly because it acts as a center of commerce rather than a center of population. I would say the population triples during the day. There are tons of people rushing in every which direction, going work, school, or running errands. But at night everyone goes back to their homes in the surrounding towns, and the city is dead. I mean, totally dead. Nothing goes on here at nighttime. There is zero nightlife, no one goes out. I rarely even see people walking around at nighttime. People go to their homes and stay there. Its very much an “early to bed, early to rise” kind of culture. The weekend here is Friday, and the city literally shuts off. Nothing is open, no one is around, and there is absolutely nothing to do. I find that really strange. Back in the states, people do any number of things on the weekend. Folks might go out, walk around, get lunch, whatever. People generally hang around town. No one does anything here. I guess folks just hang out at home. Thursday night is not happening either. Even though people have the next day off, nothing really goes on. There are no art museums or anything, there isn’t really any live music (certainly no bars), not much to do if you are tired of smoking hookah and drinking tea at one of the many hookah places. I also find this really strange. I mean, I get it, it’s an “Islamic” place, it’s traditional, conservative, etc…But Iran is twice as intense when it comes to Islam. The government there is “Islamic”. But I remember the nightlife raging in Iran. Everything- cafes. Hookah places, restaurants- was open well into the night, every night. The only exception here is if there is a Real Madrid vs. Barcelona match (both teams are very, very popular here. The city is virtually split along the lines of ‘Real fan’ and ‘Barca fan’). In that case, the cafes and hookah places stay open until the end of the game, which is usually around midnight. Afterwards, fans of the winning team generally get in their cars and drive around honking and waving that teams’ flag, or folks run around screaming and taunting fans of the opposing team. We always go to the ‘classico’ games. That’s really the only time there is nightlife here.

I wouldn’t really say there is a lot of public space here. There is no real park or open space in the center of the city. There are no squares with public spaces. There are no public benches or places to chill in public places. The only “park” type thing here is really more a ‘promenade’. It’s a 100 foot long walkway with some flowers and trees, a non-functioning fountain, and weird statue of a big white horse, and s few plastic tables and chairs, and that’s about it. During the day and on warm nights people hang out there smoking hookah and drinking tea, coffee (coffee is a popular beverage here well into the night), or juice. I wish I could take a picture of it, but it’s wedged in between the Palestinian security force base and the Jenin Governorate building, and you can’t really take pictures of government buildings here. I would get into big trouble if the police saw we taking pictures anywhere near the army base. I’ve already gotten hassled by the cops twice because I was taking pictures around town, and the police just happened to be somewhere within 50 feet of me. They hassle me, ask to see my pictures, and if there is nothing that they consider offensive or dangerous, they let me go. I asked one of my friends what that was all about. He said that they are afraid that I might be like a spy or something taking pictures of important places as reconnaissance. Whatever.

Everything here seems so….ancient. Something about this place seems so old and historical. Everything here is made out of this beige, yellowish limestone type material that makes all the buildings look aged. Even the new buildings look like they’ve been here for hundreds years. Everything looks the same. There is no architectural creativity or anything like that. Literally every single building is built out of this limestone material, is rectangular, and has a flat roof. There is no variety. The only variety you get is that some buildings have red-tiled roofs and some don’t. That’s about it. There is construction everywhere. Every direction you look, there is a building being built. I don’t know who it is being built for. Jenin is not going through a population boom or anything. You see a lot of half finished buildings here. The might have the basic structure, but no doors, windows, outside masonry, or a roof. That is a really common sight here. No one works on them. They just sit there. Sometime, you see folks living in the half-finished buildings that at least half roofs. Often, you might see people just hanging out in them smoking hookah, or using them as a place to dry their clothes, or other such random uses.

Imagine downtown L.A., but with less tall buildings (and certainly no glass), and a little but smaller. Now imagine that you drove to Silverlake, but Silverlake was a totally different town from where you were. That’s what its like here. As I said, most people who work here don’t live here. They live in one of the many nearby towns. They are pretty close together, but definitely different municipalities. There is nothing really in between these towns but farmland. This is a farming community. The big industries around here are agriculture and stone quarries. In most of the small towns, there is small “main” street with shops, cafes, etc., a couple mosques, and then farmland. Even in the small town, everything is dense. Everyone is packed together. The streets are tiny. Every car that passes by almost hits you, expertly missing you by and inch. In Qabathia, a nearby town where I have been several times, every two minutes you will fund yourself moving out of the way for a tractor. They are used as farm tools and transportation. In the small towns, sometimes you will see the odd red house, or purple house, but that is about it.

All in all, Jenin is a pretty normal, unremarkable place. It’s a small agricultural town that happens to be strangely dense and bustling for its size. But it’s rather beautiful. Jenin lies in a valley. At this time of year, there is greenery all around. From the balcony of the office where I work, you can see several small town, tons of farms, and Israel in the distance. The countryside is gorgeous. Life can be nice here (I mean, except for the no nightlife, no scene of any kind, no alcohol, little interaction with women, etc etc etc…..). It’s normal, but that’s what I like about it. I feel that being here, versus anywhere else in Palestine, has enhanced my experience. If I was in Ramallah, I wouldn’t have had the same cultural experience as I did here. There are a lot of westerners in Ramallah. I would probably hang out with other Americans or Europeans. But in Jenin there aren’t really any other foreigners. I eat, work with, and chill with friends I met here. I meet young Palestinian folks and see how they live and what normal life is like here. That’s what is special about Jenin. Its relative normalcy provides me with the opportunity to really get a taste of what Palestinian culture and life is all about, and that is what I have appreciated most about my journey here. 

An Insidious Occupation

Before I get into this post, I would like to say a couple things.

First, I will freely admit that my sympathies tend to lie more with Palestine than they do with Israel (if that wasn’t clear already by my presence here). However, I believe that being overly fervent, dogmatic, or even overly supportive of one side or the other is wrong and counterproductive. The conflict will never get anywhere until we realize that both people hurt legitimately, feel anger legitimately and that both people call this land home legitimately.

Second, I would like to emphasize that under no circumstances do I believe violence is justified. Violence is a stupid response that never solves anything. I do not believe that anything ever warrants the use of violence, whether that violence is a bombing (either by and individual or an air force), plane hijacking, or military assault. All are equally wrong, no matter for what reason.

That being said, let’s get into it.

I have seen many things in my time here. I have learned a great deal about the nature of the conflict. One thing I have seen and come to realize shocked me when I began to accept it. What is going on here is old school colonialism. Plain and simple. There is no other way to put it. Colonialism ripped out of the pages of 19^th century England.

Look, I am in no way denying Israel’s right to exist or anything. I’m not saying Israel doesn’t belong, or that it’s their land or anything like that. I’m talking about the continued occupation of the West Bank. It’s colonialism in the style of the Europeans in Africa. Israel keeps Palestine and Palestinians dependent. Dependent on Israel for any number of goods and basic utilities. Israel stifles growth here. It stifles economic, infrastructural, and political development. It’s kind of outrageous.

Let’s start with water. Israel controls every drop of water in the West Bank. Far from just ‘arguing’ over water rights to the Jordan River, Israel controls all of it. After the Palestinian Authority was created following the Oslo Accords, Israel took control of all the underground water reservoirs. The wall between Israel and the West Bank follows the route of the major underground reservoir. The reservoir is now on the Israeli side of the border. Israel does not allow Palestine to drill any wells. It does not even allow farmers to drill artisan wells. The Palestinian National Authority has to buy water from the Israeli water company, Mekorot. In the summer, Mekorot reduces water supplies to Palestinian towns by over 40% in favor of increased supply to settlements in the area. Needless to say, there are severe water shortages here. Farmers don’t have enough water for their crops. There isn’t even enough drinking water.

Israel also controls all the electricity in the here. Israel won’t allow either the Palestinian Authority or Palestinian companies to build power plants here. Whether they be coal, gas, solar, etc., Israel will not issue permits to build anything. Palestinians have to buy electricity from Israel. Again, there isn’t enough electricity here. The lights in my office constantly go on off. Imagine being in a place where “rolling blackouts” are a part of life.

Palestine is also kept from making many needed infrastructural improvements. If you go around Palestine, you’ll notice that a lot of the roads are in really bad shape. The problem is that the West Bank is split into three: districts A, B, and C. A is areas that are governed and policed by the PNA. B is areas that are governed by the PNA, but policed by the IDF. And C is areas that are run completely by Israel. Now, Israel only allows the PNA to make improvements to roads that lie entirely in area A. If the road cross two or three areas (as they most often do), the PNA can’t touch it. It has to say messed up.

If anyone wants to build or develop anything big here, they have to get permission from the Israeli authorities. The PNA governs day to day operations, but ultimate authority lies with Israel here. And you better believe it’s not a civilian authority. The IDF runs this shit. The authorities don’t allow a lot of industry to develop here. There are very few industries here. There are rock and stone quarries, a couple shoe and clothing factories throughout Palestine, and that’s about it. Not a whole lot. Economic development is largely stifled. Israel keeps Palestine and Palestinians economically dependent on its own industry and its own goods. It’s creepily similar to the way European nations would allow one or two industries to develop in colonial African nations, and otherwise keep them dependent on imports from the colonial power. Very little local industry is allowed to develop. Very little investment in new markets or fields is permitted. Israel keeps the economy here stagnant and dependent on Israeli goods. In return for a mass boycott of Israeli goods during the Intafada, Israel instituted crippling economic sanctions that brought the fragile Palestinian economy to its knees.

After all this time, Israel also carries out midnight raids of people’s homes and arrests folks. The IDF will raid the offices of businesses and charitable organizations and freeze their bank accounts all in the name of “counter-terrorism”. Often, very little proof is given. The director of the center I work at was telling me that he was arrested and spent three years in Israeli jail. I asked him why. He said that there wasn’t really a reason. He was part of a political organization in the PLO that the IDF didn’t like. The IDF came in the middle of the night, arrested him and a bunch of other people, and took him to jail for three years. After that, he wasn’t allowed to leave Palestine for several years. He wasn’t even allowed to leave Jenin. Every time he had to go to Ramallah or Hebron for anything, he would be stopped at the checkpoint, handcuffed, blind-folded, and kept there for four to five hours. Afterwards they would let him go. On the way back to Jenin, the same thing. I have heard this from several other people here. Apparently it’s a pretty common thing here. The IDF stops you at a check point, keeps you around for a few hours, then lets you go. When I talk to some folks here I begin to understand their anger. They are humiliated daily. They are controlled and pushed around daily. They do not have a functioning state to advocate for them. They don’t have an adequate police force or army to protect them. They are controlled by a country that does not have their interest in mind. Ultimate authority lies with a set of authorities that seem to utterly hate them. They don’t have economic opportunities. Their future doesn’t look bright. They don’t have a lot of rights. They are denied resources. They are denied the opportunity to even create opportunities for themselves. They have no money. They have no security. They have very little opportunities to leave or go anywhere. Their nascent and prospective country is in shambles, and to top it all off, no one sees a solution in sight.

Folks don’t have freedom of movement here. There is a Palestinian National Authority, but they are not able to exert their authority as a governing power. There is a huge Israeli army base right outside of Jenin. It’s the first stop of Israel’s detainees. Israel supersedes the PNA’s authority. It undermines it. It undermines the people’s willingness to hold their government accountable and demand more of it. How are people going to demand more of the PNA when Israel is carrying out random arrests, or restricting people’s movement, or hording water? Are people really going to be focused on holding the PNA accountable when Israeli authorities restrict almost every part of life here? The fact of the matter is that people here do need to hold the PNA more accountable. They need to be more active and involved in the running of this land. But as long as Israel is around giving (or not giving) permits for development, supplying (limited amounts) of water and electricity, and making its own policing and legal decisions, the PNA will not be viewed as a government, but as leaders in a struggle against oppression.

The occupation is often subtle, but it is insidious. It is one that denies these people the ability to develop their land. It keeps them from even having the opportunity to move their home into the future, or provide economic opportunities for themselves. It keeps them almost completely dependent on one power for basic goods and services. The economic restrictions stifle any kind of growth here. It keeps them controlled by a state that has very little interest in providing anything for them. Israel could give less of a crap about these people, yet exerts ultimate control over their lives. The settlements are, at best, mean-spirited, and at worst, meant to create an Israeli majority in the West Bank. We have been taught that colonialism is something that happened in the past, that it is part of history, and so we are hesitant to use that word to describe the situation here. But that is what is going on. It is dependence theory in action. Straight up, old school colonialism, right out of the pages of 19^th century Europe.

English Class Can Be a Gold Mine

My English classes are often a veritable gold mine of young Palestinian folks’ opinions. I’m always anxious to know what people here think and how they feel on any number of issues. Issues that we talk about and issues that we take for granted.

One of the things I’ve been doing with my English classes, besides having them bring in new words that they learned, is to create topics of conversation using these words for all of us in class to talk about. If I find their question particularly dissatisfying, then I introduce my own, which as you can imagine, are almost always political and social in nature. We’ve talked about a ton of interesting topics so far, and I’ve gotten great opinions. Some are fascinating, some are a little more shocking, but all highlight both the striking differences and striking similarities between our two cultures.

About a week ago, one of my classes had a great discussion about the death penalty. The split was just what one would expect in the United States. Three or four people were against it and the other ten people or so were firmly in support. On the ‘against’ side, the reasons given were just as expected. Some said “How can we kill people if we say that killing is wrong”, others said “killing is wrong; we should just keep them in jail”. One girl, though, said that “The government did not give life to take it. Only Allah can take life because he gives life”. Although several people, even on the pro-death penalty side, agreed with this sentiment, the majority were still in support.

On the pro side, I heard things like “Well these people will never learn that what they did is wrong, so we should kill them”, or “They might kill someone again, even in prison, so it is better for everybody if we kill them”. However, there were also other religious arguments on this side as well. I heard “in our culture and religion, we kill people who are murderers”, or “Allah says that we must kill murderers”. However, there was significant disagreement as to the religious parameters of the death penalty.

They asked me what I thought. I said that I don’t believe in the death penalty, because I think that we cannot tell people killing is wrong if we, as a society, kill ourselves. If killing is wrong, it must be wrong all the time. We can’t make exceptions. A few people said “Well that is your culture in the U.S. I reminded them that on the contrary, the death penalty is legal in the U.S. (and in some states very legal), and we kill lots of folks. I told them that we have a clause in the U.S. constitution that says the people have a right against “cruel and unusual punishment”, and I’m one of the people in the United States that believes the death penalty is cruel and unusual.

I asked what they thought about this clause, ‘cruel and unusual’. As an example, I said that in Saudi Arabia, they cut off your hand if you are caught stealing. Here is where it gets interesting. A surprising number of people (well, all the people that were pro-death penalty) were really in favor of cutting off peoples hands for stealing. I was shocked. I asked them why. What I heard was “we need to teach people that stealing is wrong”, or “they won’t steal again if their hand is cut off”. I also heard “other people will be scared to steal if they know their hands will get cut off”. The relative pacifists in the class said that people still steal, so obviously as a method of deterrence it is not working. On the pro side, they countered with “many more people would steal if they didn’t cut people hands off”. I have to admit, I wasn’t expecting that when I brought the issue up, but I’m really glad I did.

A couple days later, in another one of my classes, one of the vocab words was ‘inhibit’. One girl got up and asked “Many women have to work outside of the home in order to help their families, but they are often inhibited. What do you think of this?” The answers were fascinating. A couple of the women said that women should not work out of the home at all. But most of the women, including one of the guys in class, thought that women could work outside the home, but only in ‘suitable’ professions. I said okay, like what? Almost everyone said teaching (but only at a girl’s school) was appropriate. A lot of the women said nursing, although one guy thought that was too much for women, because they would often have to deal with disgusting situations.

Okay. I asked what would be considered a suitable profession. One of the girls said a judge. “A judge? Why can’t women be judges?” I asked. She said that women can’t really make difficult decisions, and so that job should be left to a man. All the women agreed. Wow. I asked what else. Another girl said a manager. I asked why not, and she said that women can’t really control people or an office like a man, and so they shouldn’t be managers. Again all the women, and one of the guys, agreed. I asked if they thought women could be could be politicians or presidents. All the women immediately laughed and said “no way” I asked why. They said that women can’t control their feelings, and would make bad decisions. They said that women are too sensitive, and might cry in the middle of a meeting. Or, that women will panic when trying to make a difficult decision, and that men are better at these things. They said that these jobs were not for women, because women are ‘delicate’ and ‘soft’ and ‘sensitive’ and should only take jobs they could handle. Ah, but one of the men raised his hand and said that women could be presidents or prime ministers if they surrounded themselves with able and intelligent men that could advise them. Some of the women accepted this argument, although begrudgingly.

I asked about the concept of ‘responsibility’. I said that a man’s responsibility is viewed as making money, while a woman’s responsibility is viewed as taking care of the house. Why is that, I asked. Could that ever change? All the women gave a resounding no. When I asked why, they said women are weak; they can’t deal with the world or all the crazy things in it. But men are strong, and they can deal with anything. Women should stay at home. It’s about protection. But, women can work if their husbands allow them to. I asked if this process of ‘being allowed’ to work was good, or correct. They said yes, that men were ‘the master of the house’, and were better at decision making, so they should decide if it is appropriate for his wife to work, or where to work. Ironically enough, it was me, the director of PSD Jenin (a man), and one more guy who were arguing for a more robust view of women’s rights.

I was totally and completely shocked. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Not because of what was being said, but because of who was saying it. I’ve heard these things before, but I’ve heard them from men. I couldn’t believe that it was women themselves telling me that they couldn’t make decisions, or couldn’t control their feelings. I was totally stunned. Talk about internalized oppression. When something is the norm for so long, I guess one begins to accept it. If you are raised with people constantly telling you that since you are a women, you are weak and can’t ever do x, y and z, then I guess that is all you ever know, and that is what you believe.

I mean, on one hand, these kids look so……..modern. Can I use that word, or is it still fucked up and Orientalist? What I mean to say is that on the one hand, the guys in the room are wearing skinny jeans, sneakers or high tops, graphic tees, etc. Their hair is gelled like nothing else (for some reason the popular hair style for every single man here is extremely short and faded on the sides, longer on the top). The women might wear a hijab, but many of them are also wearing tight ass-hugging jeans and long, high-heeled boots. They cake on their make-up. On the other hand, I hear views like “we should cut off people’s hands for stealing” or “women can’t be managers of offices because they can’t control their feelings”. It’s just really crazy that is all. Very different.

I must emphasize that not all people think like this. Not all people in Jenin feel this way. This class is a more extreme example. But certainly not everyone in Palestine feels this way. You have to remember that Jenin is a pretty small town. It is a relatively traditional place, definitely much more so than places like Hebron of Bethlehem, and especially more traditional than Ramallah.

However much I may disagree, I try to keep a mild stance. However, I am always asked my opinion, and I always answer truthfully. The one time I did get a little angry was when one girl said that children whose mother’s work when they are growing up turn out to be bad people without morals. I had to say ‘Wait a minute. My mom worked growing up, I’m not a bad person, right?” Other than that, I respectfully state my opinion.

I have to say, teaching the English classes was the best activity for me during my time here. It gives me the opportunity to find out what a range of people in Palestine think on a range of issues. This is one of the biggest reasons I came here. I wanted to know what life is like, how people feel about the conflict, about life, about social issues, about anything. English class has been the perfect forum to explore. 

The One-State Solution

For the past 20 years or so, the prevailing wisdom has told us that the only way to solve the Israeli-Palestinian conflict is with the creation of a Palestinian nation existing alongside Israel. It has been said that only a two-state solution will solve the ongoing tension between these two peoples. I have spent many years believing this myself. In fact, up until a week ago I was also positive that a two-state solution was the only answer, and thought of solutions to the conflict within this framework. I asked myself “What will work? What kind of compromises need to be made? What can the Israelis and Palestinians both walk away with in good faith?” But I am increasingly doubtful that a two-state solution is in everyone’s interest, nor am I even sure it is a viable thing to pursue. I am now positive that we need to break free from the ‘two-state’ box. I think the only solution is to create one big ‘bi-national’ state with a secular government, respecting of all people regardless race or religion. Don’t worry, I will explain.

First of all, I think we need to break free from the two-state box. In a recent article in Jadaliyya, Lisa Hajjar writes that

            “The problem with dichotomous thinking of the “pro-Palestinian” versus “pro- Israeli” variety is that it is premised on a notion of inherent, even existential separateness between “two peoples.” But the contemporary realities of “Palestine” and “Israel”—including, for example, the borders of either—are far too complex and too contested even among the constituencies referenced by the terms to be accurately or adequately understood through a simplistic dichotomy. Of course, there are national differences and the nationalist polarity of the conflict is quite real. But in the empirical world of Israel/Palestine, as contrasted to polemical discourse about it, there is a lack of separation among actual people and a functional hierarchy (rather than dichotomy) of socio-political and economic relations and legal rights.”

She’s right. By thinking within the two-state framework, we have worked to separate two people whose lives are in fact intertwined. The reality of Israel and Palestine is that these people are much closer (if anything at least physically) than we would like to admit. It’s like asking L.A. and Long Beach to be two separate countries. The metropolitan region doesn’t end. The economies are intertwined and imbricated within each other. The two-state effort and context also frames the conflict as two equal adversaries fighting over land they believe is rightfully theirs. Needless to say this framework is incorrect. Israel holds all the cards here. Israel has a trained and powerful military, government institutions, diplomatic relations, etc… The PLO, which is recognized both by Israel and the international community as the sole representative of the Palestinian people, is an outmoded organization made of arcane factions of the Palestinian movement that can’t even represent the whole of the Palestinian people. The truth is Palestinians are of many stripes and colors. Hajjar goes on to say that

               “the dichotomy subsumes people’s interests to their national identity as “Israelis” or “Palestinians”; their activities, motivations and commitments are read as expressions or transgressions of the collective (national) good, making nationalist ideology a basis for judging the content and character of actions and interactions. Third, the dichotomy encourages “state as actor” explanations for events and processes associated with the conflict, thus promoting a (false) conceptual symmetry between the Israeli state and Palestinians’ political representatives; the latter are currently divided between the Fatah-dominated Palestinian Authority in the West Bank and Hamas in Gaza.”

Here she is also correct. Fatah or the PLO does not represent all Palestinians just as Likud does not represent all Israelis. The PLO is an imperfect and sorry substitute for an elected government or set of representatives, and for whatever reason they were chosen to be the voice of the Palestinian people. We have to remember that the relationship between the PLO and Israel is a hierarchical one. Israel has effective control over the ‘Palestinian Territories’, as well as superior resources, infrastructure, and power. How does negotiation happen when one side has all the advantages?

The answer is negotiation doesn’t work. It’s not because negotiations themselves don’t work, but because the terms that both sides are trying to hammer out aren’t viable. There are several reasons why I don’t think a two state solution will work. One is the issue of settlements. In his article “Two States or One (Arab) State” in Dissent Magazine last year, Alexander Yacobson, a professor at Hebrew University, said that the issue of partition should be relatively simple. The IDF should leave the West bank and leave the settlers to fend for themselves. They can either return to Israel, or choose to live in a Palestinian state. But as Rachel Lever points out in her response, “As an idea for ushering in long term peace, this is also pretty fanciful. In a matter of hours, a settler-related “security incident” (real or contrived) would provoke a violent incursion by the IDF and vengeful mob attacks against Palestinians all over Israel. We’d be back where we started.” I don’t see settlers peacefully integrating into a new Palestinian state, nor do I see Israel mustering up the courage or stomach to watch the IDF drag settlers out of their homes.

Second is the issue of the particulars of a Palestinian state. A Palestinian state would require an army, but Israel would never, ever, be okay with that. Do you think Israel would ever accept a militarized Palestine? They’re scared to death of Palestinians as it is. And do you think Palestinians would ever walk away with an agreement that said they couldn’t have armed forces? Would they honestly believe in Israel’s egalitarianism and respect for borders and trust them not to attack Palestine? Definitely not. From an Israeli policy standpoint, an independent Palestinian state that was free to develop an army and resources could then fight Israel on any number of issues of disagreement and (in the worst case scenario, real or contrived) could attack Palestine.

Another issue is water. Israel and Palestine (and Jordan, Lebanon and Syria, for that matter), argue over water rights to the Jordan River. Do you think Israel would just give up a major source of its water for and independent Palestinian state? Probably not. And since Israel is much more powerful, they would probably just take the water, as they already have. In short, a Palestinian state wouldn’t have water, resources, or very much land. It is an unacceptable compromise. The realities of a two-state solution are terms that neither side is really willing to accept. That’s why every set of negotiations has failed. The two-state process has taken every twist and turn that it can take. We are seemingly at a dead end. But it is exactly at these points that we need to be creative, to view the possibilities differently, and to re-imagine our future.

Of course some folks will say that a ‘bi-national’ is not possible. They will say that mutual hatred and a Samuel Huntington style “Clash of Civilizations” divide stands between these two people. I don’t see this to be true. We have been subsumed by the two-state mindset. As Hajjar notes, by creating two different peoples and thinking of them as two separate nations-in-waiting, we have created a context in which people are ­nothing but enemies. We have created a false dichotomy where there is ‘pro-Palestinian’ and ‘pro-Israeli’ and inversely, ‘anti-Palestinian’ and ‘anti-Israeli’. If you are one, then you are automatically also its counterpart. The problem with this dichotomous mindset is that it does not take into account the reality of the situation here. In his recent article “Israel’s Best Hope Lies in a Single State” in the New Statesman, Slavoj Zizek writes

            “What both sides exclude as an impossible dream is the simplest and most obvious solution: a binational secular state, comprising all of Israel plus the occupied territories and Gaza. Many will dismiss this as a utopian dream, disqualified by the history of hatred and violence. But far from being a utopia, the binational state is already a reality: Israel and the West Bank are one state. The entire territory is under the de facto control of one sovereign power - Israel - and divided by internal borders.”

The reality of the situation is that there is already one state, its just that part of the state is separated from the rest. The conflict is not as easy as “these two people hate each other so they have to be separated” or “these people are too different to live in one state”. It’s also not as easy as “Palestinians are crazy, murderous terrorists” or “Israelis are cold, inhumane occupiers”. If it was that easy, if one side was so obviously right, then everyone would support that side. Unfortunately, it’s not that easy.

What I have come to understand in my time here is that the conflict is not about land or territory. It’s not about “who was here first”. It is about fear and rights. Each side is deathly afraid that the other side will somehow wipe out its culture and take away their right to self-determination. The Israelis are afraid that the Palestinians will either attack and wipe out all the Jews, or, if part of a united country, will grow in numbers and instill some fundamentalist Islamic State. The Palestinians are afraid that they will be wiped out, or forced to give up their culture. Neither side actually wants these things, but this fear that has been instilled in people shapes both sides’ actions and reactions.

And two states will never be the answer anyhow. It does not solve the problem. It is a begrudging compromise that neither side is happy with at all. Two states does not create peace, it simply reifies and reinforces the problems, this time through political boundaries. Rachel Lever, in her response to Alexander Yakobson’s article, puts it much better than I can. She says

          
                 “The difference between one united state and two separate states is one of ethics and philosophy. Two states is about territory, insecurity, and separation. One state removes both the physical and the mental borders. The parameters of one state are framed around rights, not land. Universality of rights (the same rights applying to every individual) means that the state and the law do not make distinctions on the grounds of ethnicity. Each individual is seen, judged, and respected as a human being, not as a stereotype. This may seem elementary, but it really can’t be repeated often enough: everything that’s wrong with racism and anti-Semitism stems from the absence of this universal human value….Hence a well-managed one-state transition would be a process for growing and expanding tolerance, whereas two states would fix the old hostilities and let them fester and worsen.”

It can’t be repeated enough: each person will be judged as an individual, not as someone mindlessly acting in the interest of ‘Palestinian’ or ‘Israeli’. People here are like people everywhere: they just want to be happy, live in peace, pursue their vision of the good life, support their families, and have prospects for the future. I’m more than positive that it is the same in Israel. It’s not about one side exclusively having the land or owning the land. The land is just a means to and end, which is expressing one’s culture and living as one wishes. The best hope that exists to achieve this state is a secular, democratic bi-national state that has constitutional safeguards against favoring or legislating for or against one religion, race, or ethnicity. Two states, or any continuation of the status quo, will simply increase tension and decrease the chances that either of these people can ever live in peace.

Of course there are obstacles to a one-state solution. The first place many people will go is demographics. What if the Palestinians become the majority? What about the Palestinian refugees living abroad? As Lever points out, these are all false and petty questions. In a new bi-national state, there would be some kind of charter, some kind of constitution, that stated each individual had a right to religious freedom, that the government would be secular, and that discrimination would not be tolerated. There would be safeguards that could only be changed by a huge majority of the population, ensuring that large swaths of the country are onboard with any changes.

And what about the ‘Jewish State’? Where will Jews go if there is no expressly ‘Jewish’ country? As Lever puts it, Israel will go from being a Jewish state to “a very Jewish state”, which is still something unique. Besides which, as she says, “…the “Jewish state” has been deeply damaging to Jewish values, especially to Judaism’s foundational value of justice. A “Jewish democracy” is no less of an oxymoron than a “white democracy”.” I have to say that she is right. I see nothing in the way Israel conducts itself as Jewish. I see nothing in Israel’s conduct towards Palestine that I would consider as being part of the Jewish character. Democracies are inclusive. If they are exclusive, then they are not democratic. Some folks will also say that Jews need a safe haven; somewhere to go if bad things happen. Seriously? I’m pretty sure that Israel is way, way, way down the list of destinations for people who are seeking safety. I’m pretty sure no one says to themselves “Wow, things are getting really dangerous here. I need a safe place to go. I’ll go to Israel.

 There’s no tension and it’s really safe there.”  People seeking safety usually will try to go to the USA or Europe. But if Israel became a peaceful bi-national state, then it could be an actual safe haven not just for Jews, but for refugees of different races and religions.

What would this new bi-national state look like? I think what is preferable is a secular, democratic state that did not discriminate on the basis of race or religion, leaving the choice of how to live to its citizens. However, this will not come about for many years. What could work as an interim agreement is an England-Scotland type of division. What I imagine is one central body elected by the West Bank, Israel, and Gaza, which would be responsible for national issues such as the drawing up of a charter, money issue, roads, a national security force which would protect borders (both internal and external), distribution of utilities, taxes, etc. Otherwise, each of these three areas would be self-governed in terms of social policy, distribution of resources, education, etc…Eventually maybe they would move to a U.S. style system of federalism. Note that this is not a solution, just a means to an end. Eventually, the walls will come down, and people will feel comfortable living under one government and one nation where all are able to worship as they want to, live as they want to, and be who they want to be.

And please don’t even start with “well democracy is not part of the Arab culture” or anything like. I think the myth of some kind of Arab aversion to democracy was broken on January 25^th. Nor do I think that arguments like “they don’t want to share the land” are acceptable either. Palestinians and Israelis have been sharing the land, at the very least, since 1967. Some people do think this way. And some people in Palestine do in fact seek to regain the whole of the land as ‘Palestine’. Just as there are folks in Israel hostile towards Palestine, there are folks in Palestine hostile towards Israel. There will always be extremists. But extremists are the minority, and we cannot give up on the best solution for peace because of a crazy minority.

I believe the two-state solution is inadequate and unviable. It is outdated and arcane. Its terms will always be unacceptable to those involved, and that’s why we haven’t gotten anywhere. It is not a solution or a route to peace, simply a way to reinforce hatred and fear with political and physical boundaries. I now believe that the best solution, in fact the only solution, is one big nation with a secular government that does not discriminate on the basis of race or religion. Remember that a state is only a means to freedom and equality, not an end in itself. For years, folks have thought that the only way to solve this conflict is to create two separate states so that Palestinians can live their lives as well. But that is no longer the answer. One state can work. These people are closer than is admitted. Religious Jews and religious Muslims live very similar lives.

I have brought the issue of one state versus two states up with several people here, including a couple of my classes. Several people are very enthusiastic about the possibility. Some are skeptical. Other think it won’t work because of mutual hatred and anger. I’m sure the split is identical in Israel as well. What is clear is this: people are disillusioned with, and have lost hope in, the negotiation process. Many view the two-state solution as a losing cause. It is. More and more, ‘one state’ is on the tips of people’s tongues. It is the only solution, and it is time to embrace it.

"A Very Jewish State" by Rachel Lever
http://dissentmagazine.org/online.php?id=457#Lever

"Israel's Best Hope Lies in a Single State" by Slavoj Zizek
http://www.newstatesman.com/middle-east/2011/03/jewish-girls-israel-arab-state

"What Emergency?" by Lisa Hajjar
http://www.jadaliyya.com/pages/index/1081/what-emergency-the-adl-academic-freedom-lawfare-an

On Being a Diplomat

Well, not a diplomat, but rather, diplomatic. I find that when I talk to people here, I have to be "diplomatic", if you will. I have to tiptoe around things, negotiate my thoughts around the cultural values of this society. I can't just straight up disagree, I have to explain my thoughts in the context of being a westerner or something. I have to be an apologist with my opinions by qualifying them about where I am from or how I was raised.

Yesterday, I was having a conversation with one of the people I work with here about Iran and the Iranian revolution. He said how much he admired Khomeini and how he was deeply influenced by his thought. I couldn't just straight up disagree. I couldn't just say "What? Fuck that guy." I couldn't really come out and say that he turned Iran into an intolerant Islamic theocracy that tries to stifle and drown Iranian culture in the name of Islam. I had to be diplomatic about disagreeing. I asked why he liked Khomeini. He said that Khomeini took Islam from theory to true practice, creating a nation that melded Islam into its law and politics. I had to approach the matter carefully, so I said that he is a divisive figure. Many people love him and many people hate him. I told that I don't really like him all that much, but that is because several of my family members were involved in the revolution in 1979, and had to escape because the Islamic regime that took hold started to persecute leftists. I don't know, it was almost like apologizing for my opinion by explaining that because my family had this particular experience, I feel this way.

Which is not exactly truth. I also said that in general I think that religion and politics should stay separate. But, I said, that is because I am from the U.S. where (generally) we believe that religion and government should not be mixed. In this society, where the heavy majority are Muslim, and the prayer is called really loudly 5 times a day, religion is a more public thing and might be harder to separate from government. I mean, I do actually believe that, but I have to carefully tiptoe around every political or cultural statement I make here.

A few nights ago, I was having a conversation with a student in one of my English classes. He asked me if lots of people drink in the U.S. I said sure, most people drink. He said "as you know, alcohol is illegal here, but I think that is a good thing". I asked why, and he told me that having no alcohol around is better than  people getting drink and running around screaming and causing problems. It is better that people not get really drink and cause a scene or bother people. I said that I have to disagree with him. I would say the majority of people have some drinks, or even get drunk, and then go home. He said that he knows some people can drink a little bit, but most people get drink and cause problems, and I politely disagreed again. I said that no, I would say most folks drink, or even get wasted, and go home, or are an annoyance to their friends who have to take them home. And he said "well here, most people who drink get too drunk and cause problems". I had to be diplomatic. I said that it's possible that that is because alcohol is illegal here, so that when people have the opportunity, they go overboard. A "what is forbidden is what is desired" kind of thing. And he said, "well, its part of our religion here. Part of our culture".

I said I know, and again, brought up secularism (as diplomatically as possible). I said that in America (generally), we believe that the government should not be religious. That the government is there to provide basic necessities, protect folks, but not to dictate or prescribe a way of life. Then I introduces the idea of 'pluralism'. That we believe that there are many kinds of people in the world, and that folks should be free to live how they want. In the U.S., we have lots of different kinds of folks, who have differing views on happiness, morality, life, etc, and that we can't necessarily tell others how to live. However, I said again, "But I am from America, and that is how we think there". He asked me what I meant. I searched for an example, finally saying that in Palestine, there aren't just Muslims, but a large minority of Christians as well. This maybe (key word I used here is maybe) means that Islamic culture and Palestinian culture aren't necessarily the same. That there are various people who all claim the Palestinian identity, and don't necessarily abide by the same beliefs. The conversation didn't really move from there. Like so many other conversations I've had here, we ended by chalking up our differences to different cultures and differing viewpoints.

Another thing I find myself tiptoeing around here is America. There are lots of people here who want to go to the U.S., and ask me what they have to do to be able to study or work in the states for a while. however, there are also some folks I've met here who shit on the U.S. I find myself being very diplomatic about repping America. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm the last person to argue that the U.S. hasn't done awful things around the world. The U.S. has supported awful leaders, installed dictators, and given arms to violent and autocratic groups in the name of its own self-interest. However, politics is not as simple as "The U.S. controls the world". I mean, it's not like without the U.S. Hosni Mubarak would have been a just, equitable leader that distributed wealth and resources to his people. He still would have been an oppressive crook that fucked Egypt over. You know? I don't deny that by giving Israel aid (lots of aid) the U.S. makes itself involved in the unjust mess that is the occupation, and the tornado that is the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. However, I am saying that waiting until the U.S. does something is a waste of time. No one but Palestinians can build their nation. No one but Israelis can create peace for themselves. However, I really have to tiptoe.

I find that the most interesting parts of being here are these types of conversations have with people here. I have the benefit of living with college students, and working with college students. I'm constantly meeting young folks eager to know about the U.S. and American culture, and equally ready to share information about their culture with me. Although we often disagree, I have found that everyone I have met here, and especially everyone I have talked to about the cultural differences between the U.S. and Palestine, is open to this cultural  difference, and open minded about my way of thought. They know that I come from a different place, and are eager to know about it. This openness, this hunger to learn about other places and other people, has defined my time here so far, and this same openness on the part of the people in Palestine has made my experience extremely eye-opening.

Being an English Teacher is Way Harder Than I Thought

It seems that the conflict is ever present here. It’s on everyone’s mind, all the time, even if they prefer not to talk about it or try to forget. Sometimes it’s hard to initiate a conversation about politics or the conflict with people here, but people’s thoughts often come out in the unlikeliest of circumstances or situations.

So I teach English classes here. Mostly to college students, but there is the odd 25 or 26 year old, as well as the odd 16 or 17 year old. I teach six classes in all. One on Thursday for 3 hours, one on Saturday for 3 hours, two on Tuesday and Sunday for an hour and a half, and one on Saturday, Monday, and Wednesday for an hour and a half. There are about fifteen to twenty people per class, a mix of boys and girls, ranging from 16 to 26. Some are English majors looking for improve their skills, and others are engineering or IT students looking to gain English skills so they can get jobs.

On the first day of all the classes, I did a quick introduction/icebreaker thing. I asked the students to go around and say their name, age, school, major, and hometown. Lastly, I asked them to say something interesting about themselves, like a hobby, or a cool they’ve done, etc…This is a super common question in the states when doing some kind of icebreaker or “get to know each other” exercise. But apparently, it’s not all that common here. People were confused. They didn’t understand. “What do you mean?” they said. I said say anything, just not the first five pieces of information. Literally anything. Do you like football (soccer)? Have you ever traveled anywhere cool? (I later found out that question was a mistake. Palestinians can’t really travel or go anywhere.) Whatever you want. It seems that Palestinians don’t have hobbies or something. Half the people thought for a while, then kind of gave up and said football. The rest of the people either said “I don’t know” or said “the internet”. I thought it was really strange. You’re telling me no one here does anything except go to school and take English classes? Impossible, but I guess it’s true. Without fail, this happened in every class.

What I’ve been doing with my classes is having them find 2 or 3 words they don’t know, define them and use them in a sentence, then present them to the rest of the class. After we’ve gone over the meaning and usage of all the new words, I have them do either a conversation exercise with each other, or an individual speaking exercise. I say that I don’t care what they talk about, as long as they use a specified amount of the new words (usually about 8) in their conversation or small speech. Then I give them time to prepare, either alone or with their partner.

Since each student brings in a couple words, the words are usually a grab bag. There are generally a few key words that define the course of conversation for each group. Last week, one of the words was ‘catastrophe’. Almost every group got up and talked about the conflict, saying things like “the occupation is a catastrophe” or “what the Israeli soldiers do to us is a catastrophe”. Another word last week was ‘allegiance’, for which I heard things like “we have allegiance to Palestine even though Israel occupies our land”. Some words will obviously lead to conversation about the conflict. For example, in one class one of the words was ‘oppression’. Most students got up and said something like “Israel is oppressive”, or “we are being oppressed because of the occupation”. Other words, however, are more benign and unlikely to bring up thoughts of the conflict. But I often find that even the most far-flung things remind them of the conflict. The best example: In another class, one of the words was ‘vigor’. I didn’t expect to, but I heard a range of things about the conflict. “We must resist the Israeli occupation with vigor”, “The people in Gaza are vigorously defending their land against the Israeli attack”, or “The Palestinian people should unite to resist Israel with vigor”. Let me remind you that these were all worked into longer conversations between two people, which means the rest of the conversation was also about the conflict.

The craziest one I’ve heard so far was a story one girl prepared and told as part of an individual speaking exercise. It started like this: “Once upon a time there was family that lived in a calm, beautiful village in Palestine. And then the Israeli army bombed their house, and their house collapsed” (collapse was one of the vocab words). I mean, Jesus Christ, that’s not how you tell a story. I was shocked. Not only by the violent nature of the story she was telling to an English class, but mostly by the crazy twist the story just took. She went to talk about how the Israeli soldiers forced the family to watch the destruction of their house, left them in the street homeless, and then took the father to jail for some undisclosed reason. She ended with “Even though the villagers tried to fight the soldiers with vigor” (vocab word), “their weapons were inadequate” (another vocab word).

These are the type images, stories, and memories that come to people’s minds here when they think about the conflict. When they have a chance to be creative and talk about anything that they could possibly want to talk about, they choose to talk about the conflict, and often express it in a fucked up, crazy way. Unfortunately, that is the nature of the conflict between these two ill-suited neighbors. And anything, even the simplest of words, can get them thinking about it.