News,
articles and documents from the Holy Land
Issue No. 194 - Monday, 3 March 2003
Dear Friends, Brothers
and Sisters,
I have just arrived yesterday from France
after a nine-days visit of meetings in Avignon region. I am back to our small
village of Taybeh where I saw the damages of the snow, therefore, we don’t have
electricity since more than one week, but we use our generator for some hours
during the night.
Therefore, I have to send you this short
message with all the documents without a lot of comments, because I found the
first appeal needs you attention and action.
You will find the following documents:
1) Appeal on behalf Bethlehem
from the Patriarch and the Custos.
2) The news about the
wall from Zenit.
3) Another article from The
Independent to let you understand the situation.
4) The Letter from Bethlehem
by Toine van Teeffelen about SNOW
5) Marthame and Elizabeth Sanders are
witing about “Faith, Hope and Love”.
We have Faith and we keep hoping and we
live because we love.
Best wishes from Taybeh Fr.
Raed Abusahlia
APPEAL
To the Most Rev.d
Presidents of Bishops Conferences
This
is an urgent appeal!
Please, do
whatever you can:
–
through your own Government,
– with
the Israeli Embassy in your Country,
– with
the Israeli Government itself.
A wall isolates
Bethlehem
The Israeli military authorities have taken the decision to separate the Palestinian Territories from Israel by a long wall passing through the whole Country. Works have now reached Bethlehem.
Because of this Israeli decision, sixty Christian
families, near Rachel’s Tomb, at the
entrance of Bethlehem, are being encircled, isolated and deprived of all
services, and have only a small entry, through an eight-meter high wall, that
will also isolate the city of Bethlehem from Jerusalem and the other Territories.
We address this
urgent appeal also to all the Christians
in the world:
Please,
– Before it is too late,
– do something to leave Bethlehem a city where one can go, pray and live
in peace;
– convince
the Israeli Authorities to stop this measure of building the wall at the
entrance of the very holy city of Christmas, the city of Bethlehem!
The
inhabitants of Bethlehem and particularly the Christians, seeing themselves
closed in, threatened
by serious hardship to the point where some of them may feel constrained
to leave the country, appeal
to you! This is an S.O.S. cry!
From
Jerusalem, on the 24th February 2003.
The Latin
Patriarch Michel Sabbah, The Custos of the Holy Land
-Fr. Giovanni
Battistelli OFM
Bethlehem
Getting Its Own Wailing Wall
Catholic Leaders Appeal for a Halt to Construction
JERUSALEM, MARCH
2, 2003 (Zenit.org).- The Latin-rite
patriarch of Jerusalem and the Custos of the Holy Land sent a message to the
presidents of bishops' conferences worldwide with the lament that "a wall
isolates Bethlehem."
The text, signed by Patriarch Michel Sabbah and Franciscan Father Giovanni
Battistelli, is addressed to representatives of the episcopates, and makes the
following appeal: "Please, do whatever you can: through your own
government, with the Israeli Embassy in your country, with the Israeli
government itself."
"The Israeli military authorities have taken the decision to separate the
Palestinian Territories from Israel by a long wall passing through the whole
country, " explains the message dated Feb. 24.
"Because of this Israeli decision, 60 Christian families, near Rachel’s
Tomb, at the entrance of Bethlehem, are being encircled, isolated and deprived
of all services, and have only a small entry, through an 8-meter-high wall,
that will also isolate the city of Bethlehem from Jerusalem and the other
territories," the message continues.
"We address this urgent appeal also to all the Christians in the
world," the Catholic leaders say. "Please do something, before it is
too late, to leave Bethlehem a city where one can go, pray and live in peace;
convince the Israeli authorities to stop this measure of building the wall at
the entrance of the very holy city of Christmas, the city of Bethlehem!"
It concludes: "The inhabitants of Bethlehem and particularly the
Christians, seeing themselves closed in, threatened by serious hardship to the
point where some of them may feel constrained to leave the country, appeal to
you! This is an SOS cry!"
ISRAEL DIVIDES BETHLEHEM WITH A WALL OF
CONCRETE,
FEAR AND SUSPICION
By Justin Huggler
The Independent (UK)
February 22, 2003
As you arrive
from Jerusalem, the first street of Bethlehem, lined with old, carved limestone
houses, is deserted. Where the tourists used to throng, the restaurants are
boarded up. In a few months, a high concrete wall will run down the middle of
this street, blocking a neighborhood of Bethlehem from the rest of the city.
The inhabitants here, predominantly from Bethlehem's fast-dwindling Palestinian
Christian community, will be cut off from their city by a concrete wall guarded
by Israeli army patrols. They will be allowed to cross into Bethlehem only
through an Israeli army checkpoint, with permits the army can issue or withhold
as it sees fit. They will not be allowed into Jerusalem, on the other side of
the pocket of land they will be walled off in.
Amjad Awwad will be cut off from the mini-market he runs. His house is on one
side of the street, the mini-market on the other. After the wall is built he
will need the Israeli army's permission to go to work and to go home again. But
that is not his only worry.
"They told us if you want a doctor in the night the hospital will have to
phone the Israeli government and arrange permission for him to be allowed in.
If it's a heart attack, we'll die before they allow the ambulance in."
After the wall is built, the Bethlehem municipality will even need military
permission to send trucks to collect the rubbish. The wall is part of what has
become known as Israel's "Berlin Wall", electrified fences and
concrete walls the Israeli government is building around the West Bank to seal
it off and stop Palestinian militants crossing into Israel.
Here, as elsewhere, the wall is not following the 1967 border but dipping deep
into the West Bank. The reason it is slicing into Bethlehem, say Israeli
authorities, is so Rachel's Tomb, a Jewish pilgrimage site inside the city,
will be on the Israeli side of the wall, guaranteeing easy access for pilgrims.
For the 500 or so people who will be cut off from the rest of Bethlehem, the
wall is a disaster. The order to build it was announced this week, while the
world's attention was on Iraq. The Israeli cabinet decision to include Rachel's
Tomb was made public on 11 September, the anniversary terrorist attacks on
America.
No coincidence, says the Mayor of Bethlehem, Hanna Nasser, who will be cut off
from his relatives by the wall. His son-in-law lives in the area that will be
walled off.
"Why do they need the wall?" he asks. "That whole area around
Rachel's Tomb is already under full Israeli control under the Oslo
Accords." The tomb is already surrounded by a concrete wall, and there are
Israeli army guard-posts on top of the buildings around it.
"Why do they need it unless they have hidden intentions?" says Mr
Nasser, suggesting the real reason for walling off the area is to force the
people to leave, so the land can be annexed to Israel.
That sentiment is echoed by Dr Jad Issac, of the Applied Research Institute,
Jerusalem, a Palestinian organization that makes maps of Israeli
settlement-building in the occupied territories using satellite images it buys
commercially. They show Bethlehem being surrounded by fences to protect new
settlement suburbs of Jerusalem built in the occupied West Bank.
"There will be no room for Bethlehem to expand naturally," Dr Issac
says. "The population density will become so high people will start
leaving freely. We will be forced to migrate."
Letter from Bethlehem (49)
Toine van Teeffelen
March 3, 2003
SNOW
We got two full
days of snow. It came with storm, so we found ourselves in a kind of emergency
state. With so much snow falling on the roofs, water started to trickle down through
the porous stones, and soon black spots appeared on the walls signaling
humidity. We had to put a bucket in the bedroom of Jara and Tamer to collect
water coming down. As always during heavy weather, there were electricity cuts,
lasting a few hours. In response to Mary's inquiry, the electricity office told
us we were lucky, some houses had no electricity for two days. Also the gas
supply stopped. Mary pitied the inhabitants of the poorer and less solid houses
such as in the refugee camps. We all put on double clothes, to the chagrin of
Jara who insisted upon showing her summer clothes. But despite all that, the
snow offered a pleasant break from the curfews. "No school today,"
Mary said to Jara, "and this time not because of the manu'a tajaawel."
In fact, the Israeli soldiers took a leave from town. Despite Jara's cold, we made
three snowmen in both our garden and that of my family in law's, and we let ourselves
be quickly pictured next to them as you never know how long the snow will last.
In the evening, after Jara was thoroughly exhausted, I told her a Japanese snow
story in which a man married a snow bride with a pale face only to discover
that she started to melt away in spring. "Papa," Jara commented,
"I want you to tell me fairy tales with a happy ending!"
All people from
Beit Sahour which is to the east of Bethlehem where there is no snow, went to
Beit Jala to the west of Bethlehem, a few hundred meters higher, where there is
a lot. (When the snow melts, rivers of water go down to Beit Sahour). The snow
not only brought pleasure but also an opportunity to talk about other topics than
politics or traveling problems. As if the people were connected to humanity
once again. While watching the children play, parents and grandparents evoked memories
from those long and cold winters in the past.
And the snow has
a romantic side too, certainly so in Bethlehem. From early morning on,
photographers and video makers hunted for still images of a snow-covered
Bethlehem trying to recall the atmosphere familiar from Christmas family films
and songs. A couple who wanted to marry in summer took an early wedding picture
in the snow. Shireen, the secretary at the Institute, told me with twinkling
eyes how she took a lone walk early in the morning to make a video of the snow-white
streets and the university campus, silently hoping that "once the hearts
of the people here will be as white as snow." A nostalgic hunt for a
virginal Bethlehem away from all trouble? All these still, romantic pictures somehow
remind me of the large Switzerland photos on the walls in Palestinian restaurants
aimed at keeping customers feel cool. Mary always mocks me when we see those or
similar pictures because she knows I consider them kitsch.
*
* *
After the snow, reality
sinks in. To our surprise, the Palestinian police caught those who robbed the bank in Beit Jala. They declared
that they wanted to take money in order to purchase weapons for a militant group
– a claim immediately denied by the group itself but unsurprisingly emphasized
by the Israeli army. And the army itself is on the streets again, and rumors in
the shop I visit say that a curfew is imposed upon a Beit Sahouri area,
apparently in reprisal of shootings on the settlement Har Homa or Abu Ghneim -
or perhaps it is because of shootings to Gilo, as another customer remarked. Or
it is simply because the army is busy making arrests. Last week three girls
were arrested in Beit Sahour to be released next day, an event which made people
angrier than usual. I myself feel that with each new wave of arrests or curfews
Bethlehem, that town of hope, is dying a little. And now that the snow has brought
a moment of freedom, you feel even more how unnatural the curfews are. "Hsara
'aleek, ya Bethlehem" [I pity you, oh Bethlehem] says Mary. Bethlehem
as an idea will live on forever, but as a human reality it looks doomed today.
Mary cries at
her work when she reads a poem of an American child condemning the war on Iraq.
She cries more these days; she herself thinks it is because the weather reminds
her of her deceased father who used to be very active in taking all kinds of
measures to protect the house against the natural elements. People working at a
foreign consulate in Jerusalem tell about a rumor that the war is going to start
on March 6, Thursday. Thursday?! I check at the Dutch consulate but they
haven't heard of such rumor. In any case, we think we are ready to face the new
human-made storm; there are enough supplies stocked up, and we made computer
back-ups following the advice of the Pontifical Mission from Jerusalem who distributed
a leaflet on how to protect oneself during the war. Mary's colleague at work
asks her: "Will it be safe in Bethlehem?" but of course nobody knows.
Yet Mary is adamant about not leaving Bethlehem, in any case. "If two
million people are staying here in the West Bank and Gaza, why should we
leave?" I don't object. Others take distraction from the news by watching
American movies, collecting items about Lady Diana (as a neighbor of ours is
doing), or yielding themselves to one of the specialized TV satellite stations
(for music, fashion etc.) Jara, in
her turn, fantasizes to live in the beautiful house opposite ours. "It's
like a hotel," is her admiring comment. Mary has a hard time putting on
her clothes as she is choosy like a movie star. "What a luck when she will
wear the school uniform next year," Mary sighs. But the talk about the
"unavoidable" war is depressing. In general people feel a complete
lack of hope about the result. "The war will create a Pandora's Box,"
is a typical remark.
Meanwhile, Tamer
is all the time busy with touching, manipulating and eating the toys around
him. He is now interested in baby plays, and all the time puts his head
forwards and backwards – as if he wants to pray like the Moslems," Mary
says.
Faith, Hope, and Love
March 2,
2003
Over the past
two and a half years in the West Bank, we've received many phone calls and
e-mails asking some variation on the question, "When are you coming
home?" When violence erupted in response to Ariel Sharon's provocative
Temple Mount/Haram al-Sharif visit, we were asked. But Jerusalem can be a
long way away from our little Zababdeh. When a mob of Palestinians
lynched two Israeli soldiers in Ramallah, the Israeli army bombed civil and
government targets in Palestinian towns, and internationals began leaving, we
were asked. But Gaza and Ramallah are still pretty far. When
gunfights erupted near the Israeli military camp at the edge of Zababdeh, we
were asked again. But the camp and gunfights were way over on the other
side of town from us.
Since then, the violence spiraled deeper and deeper, taking its toll on
thousands of lives, limbs, homes, lands. But friends and family had
mostly stopped asking us when we'd leave. We knew our way around, spoke
passable Arabic, the locals knew us. We'd stuck around this long - there
wasn't any use in trying to talk sense into us at this point. But then
there was the particularly deadly suicide bombing last Passover, linked to
nearby Jenin. Our telephones were cut, our schools were closed, and tens
of thousands of Israeli reservists were called up for military duty in the
Territories. No one knew what would happen, but everyone knew it could be very
bad. We were afraid for our safety and, without school or internet, we couldn't
do much of our work. There was no need for persuasive emails; we made the
very difficult decision to leave Zababdeh, fleeing across the border to the
quiet safety of Nazareth.
We were only gone for a month, but many people back home assumed we'd left for
good. Perhaps it was our poor communication, but more likely it was collective
wishful thinking that we'd finally come to our senses.
Now the emails and phone calls have started again. It's a blurry chorus
of reason and rumor: "We're going to war in Iraq." "Yeah,
there're some peace movements, but at this point, it's inevitable."
"Saddam will send scuds/nerve gas/smallpox at you!" "The
Arab anti-American backlash will put you in danger." "The
American government has called for a full evacuation of Americans in the Middle
East! Don't you have to leave?" "When does your flight
arrive?"
Yet here we are.
We're still here because we believe. We came here out of a commitment to
serve the Church in the land of its birth, to be in solidarity with our
brothers and sisters in Christ. What our American government says or does
cannot change that calling, or pry us from this place. Our presence here
(in Zababdeh, Nazareth, Jerusalem, or elsewhere) is a religious calling, not a
political affiliation. The cross overshadows the crown, not the other way
around.
We're still here because we hope. We hope that war will be avoided, for
nothing made by human hands is inevitable. We hope that nationalism
and fanaticism will not have their way, that the rift between East and
West will not become an impassible chasm, swallowing up lives and hopes for a
peaceful future. We feel strongly that this is a time for peacemakers,
not warmongers. For those of you who share our conviction, we love you dearly.
Struggle with us. Pray with us. Work with us as seekers of
peace. If you disagree, we love you dearly. And we challenge
you. For this is a time for turning swords into ploughshares, a time for
us to turn to the long hard work of cultivating peace, not to the deception of
a "quick and clean" war.
We are still here, because we love. We love the people of this
region. From Baghdad to Beirut, we have visited them, eaten with them,
laughed and cried with them, worshiped and prayed with them. Having done
so, it's impossible for us to think of them as the enemy - or as candidates for
collateral damage. Arab, Christian, Muslim, Jew, they have become our
brothers and sisters, fellow children of God trying to carve out life in a
region of imported death. For their sake, for our sake, and for God's
sake, we continue to do what we can to bring peace here. Those of you
sending us emails and making phone calls, before you ask us to come home again,
we ask the same of you, to do everything in your power to stop this disastrous
war.
So we're still here because we're still called to work and minister here.
But don't worry; we're not seeking our own martyrdom. But we haven't
bought those plane tickets yet.
---------------------
Marthame and Elizabeth Sanders are American Presbyterians working in the
Palestinian Christian village of Zababdeh. http://come.to/zababdeh
|
Important note
to our dear readers We really hope that you enjoy what we send you and find it
useful. If you need further information, please feel free to contact us at: nonviolence@writeme.com
Thank you for your understanding & with best wishes from Jerusalem Fr. Raed Abusahlia |