Monday, August 30, 2010

goodbye for now

Well, this is my last post for the summer. I've been in Cairo for the past couple weeks, enjoying the Ramadan season with friends. Even while on 'vacation' in Egypt, I've found many interesting conversations happening, particularly about the Ground Zero mosque controversy happening in the U.S.  Many of my Muslim friends have heard about this debate happening, and it has fed more into cynicism that Americans have something against Islam and Muslims.  I've received some email forwards claiming Muslims around the world are seeking world domination, and that there is a slow creeping of sharia law in the West. My friends here know that the true spirit of Islam, and the teachings and life of the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) are totally against this principle.

However, others of my friends also admit that Islam (as any religion) can be easily manipulated to support political agendas.  In this, Islam joins Judaism and Christianity as having stains on its record.  However, I hope that Muslims in America do not feel isolated from the rest of our society, because we need them.  The danger I see in this mosque debate is the anti-Muslim tone that it has taken. This could have negative consequences for all of us in the future.

Anyway, I am expecting more conversations about the mosque in NYC when I get back, and I for one am glad that at least some people out there (ex. Mayor Bloomberg and Jon Stewart) are rationally responding to it. I'm happy to be getting back to New York, the park, and even studying. :)  I expect to be taking a break from blogging for awhile, so for those of you who read a few posts over the past months, thank you!

 It was an unforgettable summer. As always, I look forward to the next time I'm back in the Middle East.

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Honesty: the Ground Zero mosque, Israel/Palestine, Muslims and the West

Sitting in Cairo now, I’ve been thinking more about the conversations that I had with Israelis and Palestinians over the summer. I’ve also been following the debate in the United States about the mosque/Islamic community center that gained approval for building near Ground Zero.

What I’ve been thinking is that there’s a need for some real honesty on all sides. Take Israel and Palestine. I watched a documentary recently that portrayed pro-Palestinian protesters in north America as building raging anti-Israel sentiment among young people.  The commentators criticized these protestors for crossing the line between criticizing Israel and being anti-Semitic, and said signs describing Israel as a racist or apartheid state are beyond this ‘line.’  I definitely agree that some protestors cross the lines of anti-Semitism. Some pro-Palestinian protestors are simply crazy, cruel and completely insensitive when they use Holocaust terminology or demonize the entire Jewish religion. I also agree that calling for Israel not to exist is wrong.

However, it is dishonest of Israelis to claim that this criticism is totally unfounded.  There are plenty of reasons why many people view the situation in Israel/Palestine as apartheid. There are also plenty of reasons why people view Israel as a racist state.  In many cases, it is.  And many Israeli Jews that I have talked to have spouted unbelievably racist sentiments towards Arabs. So, I’d like to see some honesty about this.  Likewise, pro-Palestinian activists should condemn the use of insensitive and evil language against the Jewish people. Pro-Palestinian activists should also condemn unequivocally the use of suicide bombings, etc. against Israeli civilians.  And importantly, which the documentary did acknowledge, being pro-Palestinian does not equal being anti-Israel.

Likewise, the debate over the so-called “Ground Zero mosque.”  Which is not even really a mosque, nor is it exactly at the Ground Zero site. But that’s beside the point.

The point is that those who are criticizing the Islamic center should admit that they are failing to see Islam as a multi-faceted, dynamic and complex religion – rather than a global monolith working to take over Western civilization.  The kinds of Muslims wanting to build this Islamic center could not be more different than the Muslims who blew up the World Trade Center. The same as the Jews who beat up Palestinians in Hebron could not be more different than Rahm Emmanuel – or that Jerry Falwell could not be more different than my Christian professors at university.  The tea party movement, Gingrich and others should also realize that they are losing ‘America’ when they start to choose only those who they like to have the freedoms guaranteed in the Constitution, rather than extending them to all.  Islam is a religion just like any other, and should demand the same intellectual honesty and respect as any other.

But on the other hand, some Muslim leaders in America need to be much more honest as well. When asked about Hamas, they should criticize their bombings of Israeli cities.  They should also be able to offer honest and candid answers about problems in Islam with women’s rights and just punishment. When the Taliban grab the headlines again and again with their public stoning executions and the like in the name of Islamic sharia law, there is a need for Muslims to clarify strongly the way in which this is not acceptable.  Perhaps Muslims should focus on the issue of Islam and the state ('church and state') and generate some robust, honest debate on groups like Hamas, on Iran, and on the Taliban. Explain to us why these groups/phenomenon have arisen, and let more Americans understand. I think this is the major issue which makes so many Americans nervous about Islam. And though I am not in the least afraid of Muslims eventually making America an Islamic state (and think it's ridiculous) I think many Americans need to hear some honest answers from Muslims.

Those of us who study Islam, this conflict, and these issues have an advantage. It’s part of my life to understand these things and to parse out the truths from the falsehoods. But I’m beginning to have much more sympathy for people who don’t have this opportunity. It is hard to draw accurate conclusions about these complex issues when so much of what you hear on both sides is colored by dishonesty.



Monday, August 9, 2010

Meeting someone from Hevron

Today, on the bus in central Israel, a girl sat next to me. She looked like she was about to go camping, wearing Teva sandals, sporty pants and a t-shirt. When we started talking in halting English, I realized she was young, maybe 19 or 20 years old. I asked her where she was from, and she told me : Hevron.

Hevron, the Hebrew word for al-Khalil (Hebron in English), the city of 300,000 Palestinians in the southern West Bank. Al-Khalil also houses around 500 Jewish settlers, who live in the Old City with Israeli army protection.  I had just randomly run into 1 of these 500 Jews, on the bus.

For a moment I actually stared at her face in slight shock. But then, I thought to myself: what to say?!? I’ve been to al-Khalil so many times, but literally never spoken to one of the Jews there. When I have seen them, they have been throwing water or garbage at Palestinians, spitting on my friends, or looking at me with disdain.  Perhaps this girl has done one of those things, perhaps I had even seen her once from a distance.

First, she told me that both of her parents are American, her father from Chicago and her mother from Baltimore (I was surprised her English wasn’t better!) This did not surprise me, as many of the most extremist Jewish settlers in the West Bank are actually American Jews.  I asked her if she had ever spoken to a Palestinian in Hebron. She said no. She then asked me what I was doing in Israel. I told her I had been working in Ramallah with a program for children (limited English prevented me from explaining more). After learning I had been staying in Ramallah, she asked me: “Do you hate Israel?”

Calmly, I said no, of course not. Look where I am? Riding an Israeli bus on my way to my Israeli relatives’ house on a kibbutz. But in my head I was also shocked.

I again brought up the topic of the Palestinians and Jews in Hebron, asking her why she never talks to any Palestinians there. She said that all the Arabs hate them, that they would never allow any Jews to live in Hebron. She said, “we will never have peace with any Arabs.”  And again, as she said it, it was as though ‘Arab’ was a dirty word. I told her, the reason the Palestinians in Hebron do not like the Jews is because they have been so hurt from them, and they are afraid. She said, “I think if I talked to any Arab they will try to (and she made the motion of putting a gun to her head).”  She asked me, “have you been to any Arab’s house before?” I said yes, many times. She looked so surprised, wondering if it was safe for me. I told her, they are wonderful people and I love to be with them.  I told her, please if you see a Palestinian girl one day in the street, try to say hello to her. Try to be kind and see what happens.

(sigh) I couldn’t believe this conversation even happened. It makes me want to talk with more settlers. If only there was a way to transform al-Khalil/Hevron into a place where Jews could live peacefully among the Palestinians.  If only someone could talk sense to extremists, if the settlers would stop teaching their children to hate all Arabs. Then I wouldn’t be meeting a young girl who is anything but innocent already.

Sunday, August 8, 2010

Letting Muslims into our Hearts: the Mosque near Ground Zero

As many of us have been seeing in the news recently, there is quite the controversy about the new mosque that received permission for construction near the Ground Zero site in NYC.  Called Cordoba House, the mosque is actually slated to be an Islamic community center: hosting artistic and cultural events, community classes, children’s activities, as well as the mosque and religious center.

Now I’m not writing this to debate the origins of this mosque idea, nor its funding. (Though I did check the website, as well as Park51 website, and they claim they are receiving absolutely no foreign funding).  I’m writing about the concept: letting Muslims into our hearts, acknowledging their desire to be a part of mainstream America, allowing them and us to repair the damage of 9/11.

I recently watched the film My Name is Khan.  It follows the story of an Indian Muslim man whose life in America is brutally interrupted when his adopted son dies after being beaten up at school for being Muslim.  There is a scene where Khan enters a mosque, and hears the imam giving a lecture on Muslims needing to fight. The imam tells the story of Abraham when he is asked to sacrifice his son Ishmael (or Isaac in the Christian version), but in the end God provides a ram for the sacrifice, sparing Abraham’s son.  The imam interprets this as God calling Muslims to sacrifice for the cause of Islam, that in some cases God calls us even to spill our blood.

Khan yells: Satan! at the imam. He rebukes him, saying the point of this story is that God will always provide for us, that we have to trust and be compassionate even until the end. God will take care of us. No one else can, even when we are facing the prospect of terrible pain.

I think that Khan’s words in the film reflect the views of so many Muslims after 9/11, particularly in America. 9/11 was painful for America, for the victims of the attack.  But 9/11 was also terribly, excruciatingly painful for so many Muslims, who saw their entire religion hijacked in a few short hours. Rather than fighting back against much of the discrimination and violence that faced them in America afterward, and even forced to watch America enter 2 wars as a response, Muslims have been waiting for God to take care of them, without any violence whatsoever.

America needs to get past the point where accusing then-candidate Obama of being Muslim was considered a politically fatal stab. When Obama was asked if he is Muslim, I wish he could have said: “what if I was?” “Is being Muslim somehow wrong, somehow un-American?” All he did was deny it.

This mosque near Ground Zero should exist. It should be there on the grounds of freedom of religion first – allowing all religions in America to practice freely, adding to the numerous Jewish synagogues and Christian churches spotting New York City.  It should also exist as a symbol, allowing Muslims to trust in their destiny in America, being welcome in a country which was built on pluralism and individual liberty. We need to welcome Muslims, no longer treating Islam with suspicion and separating them from what is considered ‘mainstream’ America.  What better way for us to heal than allowing Muslims to be present at the place where 9/11 destroyed the reputation of their religion, allowing them to show their compassion and the true face of Islam?  It is time we welcome Muslims into our hearts, into the heart of America, as equal Americans in our eyes.

Monday, August 2, 2010

Shabbat Dinner in Jerusalem

This Saturday, I went to my first ever Shabbat dinner. I also feel pretty special, because my first Shabbat dinner was in Jerusalem, the holiest of holy cities (well, perhaps). J Andrew, friend of mine, invited my friend Ratna and I to join a group of American and British yeshiva students at an orthodox rabbi’s house.

We met at the Wailing Wall in the Old City, where a few hundred people were gathered, meeting their friends and family, some praying at the wall before heading off to celebrate Shabbat.  We walked over to see the joyful dancing; some young women danced in a circle holding hands and singing near the wall.  When we met the rabbi, he was young, only around 25 years old.  Already married with two young children, he and his wife were introduced to each other by their rabbi back in Chicago, and have moved to Jerusalem, allowing him to study Torah.  When he walked up and introduced himself at the wall, I stuck out my hand in greeting. He graciously tried to ignore it. I had forgotten that it is inappropriate for men to shake my hand during Shabbat (for him it might be an everyday rule, I’m not sure).

After our group had gathered, we left the wall and walked for around 45 minutes to the rabbi’s house, north of the Old City.  The walk was peaceful, with hardly any traffic on the streets. Transportation and using technology is prohibited during Shabbat.  When we arrived to his apartment, the lights had gone out and there was only the flicker of candlelight.  After standing in the dark for a couple moments, he politely said: “since we are celebrating Shabbat, we can’t turn on the lights. Would you do it for us?” And so, as the honorary Gentile of the group, he led me outside and pointed to the fuse for me to switch on. J Now, this might be cheating a bit, but I have a sense of humor about it. It would have been difficult to eat in the dark. J

Next came hours of amazing food and fascinating conversation. Our group consisted of young British and American Jewish men, who have come to Israel to study; the rabbi and his wife; and me and Ratna. Ratna and I are both working in the West Bank this summer, and even bringing that up felt awkward in this group.  Through the course of the evening, we spoke about the conflict, about the nature of U.S. support for Israel, loyalties to Israel vs. the United States, about how Palestinians feel in the West Bank, and whether women are mistreated in Islamic societies.   Some of them asked good questions and seemed genuinely interested in what Palestinians think/feel.  Others seemed only willing to keep professing their belief in Israel and their support for AIPAC. Another told me he hated the Arabic language, that simply the sound of it made him think they were bad people.

As angry as some of the comments made me, it was a fascinating conversation and one that I seldom experience.  The emotions that tie Jews all over the world to the Israeli state – even wealthy east coast frat boys – is astounding. When I’m forced to listen to them, and realie the extent to which Israel is embedded in their religious and cultural consciousness, it is a reminder of how difficult communication is across divides. It’s a reminder to work harder.  And also, it leaves me with the conclusion that if these young men could only see some of the things I’ve seen, they would perhaps begin to understand. I only wish I could convince more of them to come with me to Hebron, to see the Jewish settlers who throw trash at Palestinians and spit on them.  Young Jewish men like these are the ones who need to stand up and say that these settlers do not represent Judaism, nor Israel. Just as ordinary Muslims had to stand up and renounce Al Qaeda, and moderate Christians should renounce crazy people like Pat Robertson, these young men should be the ones standing up against these extremist settlers. I also wish more of them could see the good in an organization like J Street, which gives Jews a place to both love Israel but leave room to criticize its actions.

Because I could go on and on about this night, I’ll stop now. It was fascinating, and a Shabbat I won’t forget.  I hope I have more opportunities to speak to young Jews like them again. I’ll be better prepared next time. J I won’t shake hands, I’ll be ready to turn on the light switch, and I’ll challenge them more on stopping the settlements and working towards real peace.

Sunday, August 1, 2010

Is the Occupation really so bad?

In some conversations I've had recently, some people seem to have the perception that the Occupation isn't so bad these days... that things have been 'relaxed.'  It is true that there are up and down times during this occupation.  Some times, violence sparks more road closures and arrests... sometimes, things are cooled down and the checkpoints are loosened.  But the occupation is still very much a reality, and the control of Israel is felt throughout the West Bank and Gaza.

Some people have asked me what the military presence is like in the West Bank.  Do we see the Israeli army every day? Do we feel constantly that we are under a military occupation?  In Ramallah, we do not see the military day-to-day. But Palestinians here feel the occupation nevertheless, whenever they want to drive to the next city. The fact that they cannot enter Jerusalem, which is only 20 minutes away. The difficulty in obtaining permission to even cross the Allenby Bridge into Jordan, where only then they have an airport from which to fly to anywhere in the world. They also feel the occupation through its economic effects - the difficulty of opening a business here in Palestine, where exports can be stalled by Israel for any reason.

However, in other parts of the West Bank outside Ramallah, the occupation is even more a daily, physical reality.  In Hebron and the south West Bank, you see Israeli soldiers every day. In downtown Hebron there is a constant mlitary presence to 'protect' the Jewish settlers. In some Palestinian villages south of Hebron, Israeli soldiers escort Palestinian schoolchildren to school every day in order to prevent them being attacked by extremist Jewish settlers.  Israeli tanks are a constant sight on the horizon of the village of Doora, near Hebron.

In the north West Bank, and around the city of Nablus, the Jewish settlements create the same necessity for military presence. Closures of roads, road blocks and curfews imposed by the Israeli army are still common in some Palestinian villages in the area. In recent days, this is the case in Iraq Boreen, the village which I wrote about and visited a few weeks ago.  It has now been declared a 'closed military zone' and international medical volunteers were denied entrance to the village.
Israel declares village closed to foreigners

Some people on the outside, particularly some Israelis that I have spoken with, want to believe that the occupation really isn't so bad, and that its presence is exaggerated by Palestinians. I can tell you that it is not.  The occupation is felt, and it is real. Whether physically manifested in tanks and soldiers, economically in trade restrictions and border delays, or in the psychological scars from family history of arrests, humiliation or death at the hands of Israel, the occupation is very much a present reality.