JERUSALEM – A LONG DESIRED PASSION FINALLY REQUITED

It is fitting I should be entering Israel on June 7^th.  This is the anniversary of the Six-Day War of 1967, when the still teenaged nation of Israel – with enemies from five nations pressing on her borders preparing for an attack – made a successful pre-emptive air strike against her assembled enemies which preserved the Jewish nation for future generations.

I remember reading accounts of this battle, and marveling at the odds overcome by the IDF (Israeli Defense Forces) when so heavily outnumbered.  It reinforced for me one of the maxims of military history: “It is not the size of the dog in the fight, it is the size of the fight in the dog that matters.”

That was one of the motivating factors for me to do my senior thesis at Pomona College on the creation of Israel as a state.  Like any good psychologist candidate in training, it is necessary for me to reveal my prejudices in advance.  Mine favor Israel.  Though, I would love to safely have access to Palestine in full and get a perspective on what Palestinians believe is the root and continued justification for conflicts with Israel.

Since taking over all of the Sinai Peninsula (and giving it back as a result of a peace agreement with Egypt in 1979) and the West Bank of the Jordan River (under Palestinian dominion but Israeli military control) and the Golan Heights of what used to be Syria (probably never to be relinquished without a verifiable peace due to its strategic value as high ground looking over all of the Northern Galilee), Israel has gained a reputation carefully cultivated by Arab apologists of being a bully.  My own assessment is that this is akin to labeling David a thug and treating Goliath like a victim.

It simply defies all known logic for a people defending their homes and way of life, surrounded by enemies who refuse to make peace and whose declared purpose is the eradication of their race and their nation, to acquiesce to claims of victimhood or international cries of “foul.”

What nation or nations among that band of coiled hypocrites nesting at the United Nations, would allow a neighbor country to lob rockets into their farms, send zealots armed with suicide vests into crowded cafes, and dig tunnels underneath their school houses and children’s bedrooms for the purpose of kidnap and murder?  Those peace loving and international law abiding Russians?  (If this is your illusion, see the latest developments in Georgia and Chechnya and The Crimea in Ukraine).

None.  That is right.  None!  Including all those wealthy, primarily white, guilt ridden, smug and safe (as a result of hiding behind the US manned and paid for NATO military umbrella) northern Europeans who castigate Israel for overreacting to Palestinian … “provocations.”  Which among them, I ask, would tolerate suicide bombers or increasingly sophisticated rockets or tunnels dug beneath their borders?

Israel has a track record of trading land for peace or vacating conquered territories once military stabilization has taken place (Lebanon, Gaza Strip, Sinai Peninsula, West Bank).  Yet the extremist Islamic entities Hamas and Fatah and Hezbollah (among others) have famously declared that there will be no land for peace, they do not recognize Israel’s right to exist, and it is their sworn duty to eradicate Jews and Israel.  Any Palestinian or Arab leader who dares to oppose these beliefs and seriously engages with Israel to discuss a lasting peace soon finds himself the target of an assassination effort.

A famous quote which has yet to be questioned in any serious manner remains valid today and colors my thinking as I travel through Israel:  “If the Palestinians put down their arms tomorrow, there will be peace.  If the Israelis put down their arms, there will be no more Israel.”

My crossing into Israel is an interesting experience.  It begins with a long drive from Aqaba into Eilat, along what is clearly heavily monitored ground.  I am aware the Israelis have many unseen assets protecting their borders (including satellite, video, sound, infrared, pressure plate, and laser detection technologies in addition to human observers and military patrols).   My entry was somewhat prolonged due to the amount of electronic gear I carry, but very courteous and polite.

Once upon Israeli soil, I encounter the usual problems with taxis.  It seems no matter what the nationality or religion, taxi drivers delight in obfuscation, mixed messages, incomplete rate quotations, and differences of awareness to fleece their clients.  I do not believe I have ever seen a bigger whiner in any public conveyance for hire than my first Israeli taxi driver, simply because I questioned his modus operandi and rate basis.

From Eilat, it is a five hour bus journey to Jerusalem, past the Negev Desert and the Dead Sea.  Seventy kilometers to the north is the Gaza strip at the edge of the Mediterranean Sea – a Palestinian rocket launching pad and powder keg waiting to erupt just days after my departure.  I observe many salt ponds along the way.  I also have time to contemplate just how Israel manages to secure such a lengthy and largely indefensible boundary when the desert lands involved are so completely inhospitable.

Approaching Jerusalem – The Holy City -- after passing the West Bank cities of Jericho, Ramalla and Bethlehem I get my first look at the large and winding security wall erected by the Israelis to protect themselves from West Bank militant incursions (at this juncture, Israel is only 15 miles wide, and nearly indefensible in the event of a major conflict between modern armies).  Though not exactly a similar barrier, it reminds me of the Berlin Wall in reverse.  It is intended to keep trouble out, rather than a captive population in.

Jerusalem is one of the oldest cities in the world, with the most ancient part of the city being settled in the 4^th Millenium BC.   It is considered holy to Judaism, Christianity, and Islam.  Both Israelis and Palestinians claim Jerusalem as their capital, though neither claim is recognized in diplomatic circles internationally. During its long history, Jerusalem has been destroyed at least twice, besieged over 20 times, attacked over 50 times, and captured and recaptured over 40 times.

Its picturesque golden stone walls which today define “The Old City” were built under Suleiman The Magnificent in 1538.  Today those walls partition the one square kilometer  Old City into four traditional quarters—known as the Armenian, Christian, Jewish, and Muslim Quarters.  Modern Jerusalem has grown far beyond the walled boundaries of the Old City, named as a UNESCO World Heritage site since 1981.

In 2011, Greater Jerusalem had a population of 801,000.  Despite having the smallest quarter Jews comprised 62% of the populace, Muslims 35%, and Christians around 2%.

My reservations have been made at the Panorama Hotel in Arab East Jerusalem, on the Hill of Gethsemane looking directly into the floodlit Islamic Holy Place of the Al-Aqsa Mosque and Dome of The Rock.  Both are just inside the illuminated angles of the Old City walls adjoining the Dung Gate.  It is a compelling, memorable, timeless scene.

My first daylight charge is through the Dung Gate to the Old City.  Israeli security is tight but not annoying.  A primary stop is made at “The Wailing Wall” or Western Wall -- all that remains of the 2^nd Jewish Temple after the Romans razed it in 70 AD following a Jewish revolt.  As such the 538 BC constructed place of worship is the most sacred structure of the Jewish people.  This is the suggested site where Abraham – a patriarch of both Judaism and Islam – came to sacrifice his son Isaac.

The Biblical prophet Isiah called the temple a “House for All Nations.”   Today people of all faiths (including Muslims) come to the wall to see, feel, pray, sing, wedge notes in the cracks of its thin sandstone fissures, and chant requests to a universal God.  Interestingly, the wall was denied to Jews after occupation by Jordanian troops following the Israeli War of Independence in 1948 until its capture by Israel in 1967.

In a broader sense, the 500 meter whitewashed Wailing Wall – having witnessed war and peace, destruction and revival, love and hate, hope and fear – stands as a sentinel to time and acts as a bulwark for the heritage of Jews, Christians and Muslims alike.  It is a unification place and symbol of unity for Jews especially.  It is said locally that “The Divine Presence Has Never Departed From The Western Wall.”

A logical followup was the Islamic Dome of the Mount, located by ramp just uphill from the Wailing Wall and situated on the ancient platform which once was the base for Solomon’s  1^st Temple.  I can squeeze off a few photos from a distance, but am otherwise not allowed access due to wearing cargo shorts.  A pair of plaid oversized knickers to attain the proper pant leg length is offered, but I am unwilling to pay $25 for these illustrious threads and forego the visit.  Luckily, I have seen many mosques (and mosque interiors) in Cairo.

A side turn is taken departing the courtyard of the Dome of The Mount/Al-Aqsa Mosque (built roughly 691 AD), directly into the narrow hallways and arched tunnels of the Jewish and Armenian Quarters in The Old City. There is an endless variety of goods available here (not the type of merchandise one exactly seeks out or expects to find in Wal-Mart). Not all of them were religious or iconic in nature.

The offerings included leather goods, jewelry, art, spices, shoes, clever t-shirts, candy,  drinks, precious stones, and silverwork galore.  The variety of pitches employed by the gracious merchants in both quadrants keeps me fascinated and progressing slowly for hours.  All were conversational and lacked the hands-on pushiness found in most bazaars.

There is no plan.  It is delightful to just wander – left, right, straight ahead, and randomly proceed at will … like an ADHD child pursuing “bright shiny things.”  Occasionally there are descents also, stairwells where you literally walk back into history and the underpinnings of early Jewish wall and temple remnants preceding the time of Christ.

Once on the Old City perimeter, I encounter the Jaffa Gate.  This has traditionally been the Old City’s main entrance.  From here, it is possible to ascend steep stone steps and circumnavigate the city from high above via a rampart catwalk.  It is not continuous.  You walk halfway around, come to a high steel lattice barrier, and must return through the Via Dolorosa (The Way of Sorrows, the 14-Station Path of Christ to his crucifixion).  Along the way, I am able to visit The Zion Gate, Dung Gate, and Lion’s Gate.

Passing in meandering fashion through the Arab and Christian Quarters of The Old City makes one feel wonderfully alive.  It bustles with locals, tourists, tea and coffee merchants, relics (which of course included a couple attempts to hawk a piece of “The True Cross”), pilgrimage wear, and countless tour guide offers.  Arabs, Jews, Christians and foreigners mingle without rancor.  It is a scene of tranquil agreeability.

By accident, I cross paths with the Church of The Holy Sepulchre – sacred to Christians as the triumvirate scene of the crucifixion site, burial place, and point of ascension to heaven of Jesus of Nazareth.  I am emotionally grabbed by the extent of passion revealed in the actions of believers as they sobbed, knelt, bowed, prayed, clutched and laid on hands at being in the holiest of holy places connected with their Savior.

It is also a point at which one must carefully weigh, is it important just whether this was exactly the place in which all three events took place?  Perhaps only historians and authors worry about that sort of thing.  The Faithful clearly do not.  Ten years of Bible study taught me that Golgotha (“The Place of Skulls,” or crucifixion hill, was outside the Old City Gates, and well removed from the borrowed tomb of Joseph of Arimathea where Christ was laid to rest.  The point at which Christ ascended to heaven (or rose again, as Christians say) – is  anybody’s guess if not literal belief.  Neatly packaging the three, need not offend the purist.

Beyond the colorful spice and jewelry stalls of the Christian Quarter, the Jaffa Gate is regained.  This time the northern half of the rampart walk gets my afternoon attention.  Repeated ascents and descents of The Old City’s crenellated stone walls provide transit of the New Gate, the schoolyards and restaurants of three different faiths, the imposing Damascus Gate, and Herod’s Gate before descending eventually back to the courtyard of the Dome of the Rock.  Once again, this Arab administered area is off limits to non-Muslims except for very limited hours and only with the proper clothing.

My evening sadly ends in anger.  Passing through the Christian, Muslim and Jewish cemeteries of the Kidron Valley in order to view the ancient Absalom Tomb (allegedly the tomb of King David’s rebellious son), I am confronted by angry Arab teenagers.  At first they just block my passage from a walled gate.  Then they flail their arms and yell loudly.  Once I am close enough they suddenly throw rocks.  The attack is serious.  They pop up, whiz a few rocks, retreat, and are replaced by other popups a few yards distant.  I am forced to gather a handful of rocks and return fire in order to eventually make my way up the hill to my hotel.

The apologetic front desk personnel back at the Panorama Hotel explain that the kids have probably mistaken me for an Israeli.  Sad commentary in itself.  For over the next week, I learn that the Arabs (even those who are Israeli citizens) appreciate Israeli rights and benefits but have a great animus for the Israelis in general.  The Israelis do not have this same disaffection for Arabs.