This week, I have seen a couple of recent news stories relating to Palestine and Israel: one which enraged me; one which provoked me. I made a throwaway collage on 27th February for Ephemera for the former story about how a pro-Israel lobby group made a London hospital take down art work by children from Gaza as they felt ‘threatened’. I am still struggling to find words to explain how rage-full I feel in response to that. That people representing one of the most belligerent, violent, and militarised countries on earth could consider children’s artwork threatening is an egregious farce and an abuse of the English language. What they did not want was for anyone outside of Gaza / Palestine to know the reality of those children’s lives. That the hospital would capitulate to this lie of vulnerability disgusts me. Today I read the historian Simon Schama calling for British Jews to
And so, the time has come to close out my feelings about my Israel / Palestine trip. I thought six entries for the six people in my travelling group was an appropriate place to stop. To try to lighten the load, I shall fill this with random memories of why, no matter how difficult and intense the trip was, I still wouldn’t change it for the world. I learnt a lot, just not what I expected. This is an entry for the fun and the laughter that we held onto, no matter what. Up until we went to the Dead Sea, I was convinced I would never step foot in that country again, but that day was such a pleasurable mix of emotions that I felt my stubborn head be swayed. We started the day at Qumran, and then walked, for what felt like hours in the searing 40/45 degree heat,
I recently came across a book I had to have. (I’m always coming across a book I ‘had to have.’ I recently quit a job at a bookshop for a few reasons, but one factor was that I didn’t make any money: all my wages went back to him because of books I ‘had to have’.) It is called The Palestinians and it is a beautiful, cloth-bound book from the late 1970’s, with words by Jonathan Dimbleby and photographs by Donald McCullin. In the introduction, Dimbleby talks of how, in formulating the situation as ‘the Palestinian problem’, we reflect our own biases and prejudices about the conflict. So, whilst I also believe that we see what we want to (which is why the world exists in multiples), I truly think there is an Israel problem which manifests itself quite peculiarly in the nation’s inability to view anyone as human, its citizens
There are roughly three positions to take on the Israel / Palestine issue. (1) You are an ‘ardent Zionist’ with little-to-no concern about the plight of the Palestinians. (2) You are staunchly pro-Palestinian with little-to-no concern about the plight of the Israelis. (3) You fall in the indeterminable mass of grey between these two positions, generally having slightly more sympathy for one of the two positions. If you are a type (1), you are probably already living in the neighbourhood, and I doubt much could ever change your mind. If you are a type (2) and you go visit Palestine, you will most likely become radicalised, if you are not already. If you are a type (3) and go visit Palestine, I fail to see another possible outcome then for you to slide further down the scale towards more Palestinian sympathy. I was always a type (3), but worryingly, at certain times
Someone said my emails don’t make him want to go to Israel any time soon. That’s not what I mean to be doing here. I want you to go because your experience will no doubt be different from ours and that’s kind of the point here. These dichotomous viewpoints that might one day be reconcilable. So go, go and see what you might find. J sent me a long email yesterday about the leftist peace movement in Israel. She’s afraid I won’t mention it. She’s afraid that my melodramatic, self-indulgent, Jerusalem-inspired intro will preclude me from talking about Tel Aviv or Haifa or even how much fun we had at the Dead Sea. She’s afraid I’ll paint my experience as the only experience to be had, and forget to mention that lady at the Western (Wailing) wall who said she was glad to see Muslims come watch people pray. It is,