U.S.
Rabbis Just Got a Close-up Look at Occupation in
the West Bank - and It’s Not a Pretty Sight
Rabbis' visit comes after 50th anniversary of
Israel's occupation of West Bank. What hadn’t
been planned, though, up was that their trip
would coincide with one of the worst crises ever
in relations between Israel and the U.S. Jewish
community
By Judy Maltz
July 07,
2017 "Information
Clearing House"
- Rabbi
Stanley Kessler first visited
Hebron in 1967,
just after the
Six-Day War. He
returned for a second visit in 1973. This week,
at age 94, he came back for his third trip and
hardly recognized the city.
“I have
difficulty seeing what I’m seeing,” he says,
pausing for a moment of reflection after a
stroll, on a sweltering day, through what used
to be the bustling center of this West Bank
city. “On my previous trips, the streets were
swarming with people. And now, I didn’t even see
one single person.”
“Where has
everyone gone?” wonders Kessler, who served for
40 years as rabbi of a large Conservative
congregation in Hartford, Connecticut, and had
studied under Abraham Joshua Heschel, one of
America’s most revered rabbis.
Kessler
has been around, as they say. During World War
II, he served as an aerial gunner and radio
operator in the U.S. Air Force, flying 18
missions over Europe. In 1963, he was one of 18
rabbis who marched for black civil rights with
the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. in Birmingham,
Alabama. In the late 1960s, he was active in the
anti-Vietnam War movement.
But
something about this most recent trip to Hebron
– a city where the entire story of the Israeli
occupation plays out in a nutshell – has shaken
him deeply.
Perhaps
because the last time he visited here, before
Israeli settlers had set up a base in the city,
he saw Palestinians moving around freely and
businesses that were thriving. Perhaps because
the last time he visited here, checkpoints
manned by the Israel Defense Forces were not
stationed at every corner. Perhaps because the
last time he visited here, no streets or
neighborhoods were declared off-limits to
Palestinians. Or perhaps because during those
visits, he was not greeted by rows upon rows of
empty shops sealed shut by military order.
“I am
terribly sad,” he says. “And now, after hearing
the stories of soldiers who served here, I am
also infuriated.”
Kessler was one of
a group of about a dozen American rabbis
visiting Hebron Sunday on a tour jointly
sponsored by T’ruah, a U.S.-based organization
of rabbis active in promoting human rights, and
Breaking the Silence,
a group of former IDF soldiers dedicated to
fighting the Israeli occupation, who collect and
publish personal testimonies about their
military service in locations like Hebron.
Several of these testimonies were read out
during the tour.
Among the
participants on the tour are Conservative
rabbis, Reform rabbis, a representative of the
Jewish Renewal movement, and even one Orthodox
rabbi who describes the political orientation of
his community as “somewhere between
AIPAC and the
Zionist Organization of America” – referring to
the pro-Israel lobby in Washington, at one end,
and one of the most right-wing Jewish
organizations in the United States, at the
other. Most of them are participating this
summer in a special leadership program run by
the Shalom Hartman Institute in Jerusalem.
Unlike
Kessler, most of the other rabbis have never
been to Hebron before. And unlike Kessler, most
of them are unwilling to have their names or
photos published. Their congregations back home,
they explain, might not understand their
decision to participate in a tour that offers a
different narrative about the conflict – one
that puts a human face on the other side and
doesn’t paint Israel in the usual rosy colors.
“Most of
these people have never had an opportunity to
see what the Palestinians experience,” says
Rabbi Jill Jacobs, the executive director of
T’ruah, in a phone call from her New York
office. “Nor have they had the opportunity to
talk to Israeli [army] vets who have risked
their lives for the country and are deeply
committed to its long-term security. We believe
that seeing things on the ground and bringing
this to the level of human beings makes all the
difference.”
The
group's visit comes barely a month after Israel
marked the 50th anniversary of the Six-Day War,
when the West Bank (and Hebron along with it)
was captured from Jordan. What hadn’t been
planned, though, when these rabbis signed up was
that their trip would coincide with one of the
worst crises ever in relations between Israel
and the American Jewish community.
Exactly
one week before they boarded a bus to Hebron to
experience the Israeli occupation up close, the
Israeli government – as far as the vast majority
American Jews were concerned – told them, in not
so many words, to get lost. Last Sunday, the
cabinet voted to retract its commitment to build
a new and permanent egalitarian prayer plaza at
the Western Wall where non-Orthodox Jews (who
represent the overwhelming majority in the
United States) would have been able to hold
mixed-prayer services. Later in the day, the
Ministerial Committee for Legislation voted to
advance legislation that would deny recognition
of any conversions performed in Israel outside
the Orthodox state-sanctioned system. That
latter decision has since been put on hold.
These government
actions have sparked an
unprecedented backlash from American Jewish
leaders. Might they now find the courage take a
stand against other Israeli policies deemed
harmful to the future of Israeli democracy – the
occupation, for example? This was not a question
any of these particular rabbis was ready to
address on this trip, at least not on record.
As Frima
(“Merphie”) Bubis, their 23-year-old
Israeli-born guide from Breaking the Silence,
said to them: “It’s so much easier to talk about
women’s rights, the Kotel (Western Wall) and
egalitarian minyanim (prayer forums).”
Settler
mindset
Before
heading into Hebron, the bus makes a short
detour to the nearby settlement of Kiryat Arba.
By way of introduction, Bubis points out two
sites that speak volumes about the mindset of
the local settler population: a park named after
Meir Kahane, the racist American-born rabbi
whose political party was outlawed in Israel,
and the burial place of Baruch Goldstein, a
Jewish-American physician who lived in town and
who, on the Jewish holiday of Purim in 1994,
shot dead 29 Palestinians praying in the nearby
Tomb of the Patriarchs.
The rabbis
can hardly conceal their shock at the words
inscribed on his tombstone: “His hands are clean
and his heart is pure.”
Hebron is
the only Palestinian city in the West Bank that
has an Israeli settlement located within it. A
total of about 850 Israelis (including about 200
yeshiva students, who are not full-time
residents) live here among 200,000 Palestinians
– among them, some of the most radical and
violent settlers to have emerged during a
half-century of occupation. To make sure that
the city's tiny Jewish population is protected,
hundreds of Israeli soldiers patrol the streets
here.
But even
this very conspicuous military presence is not
enough, as the rabbis on the tour soon learn. To
avoid friction between the two hostile
populations, Israel has imposed heavy
restrictions on the movement of Palestinian
residents in what used to be bustling downtown
Hebron.
Bubis
opens a map filled with a maze of different
colored lines to illustrate her point. On roads
delineated in purple, she points out,
Palestinians cannot drive vehicles. On those
marked with purple-and-gold stripes, not only
are Palestinians prohibited from driving – they
are not allowed to open businesses. On roads
delineated in red, not only can they not drive
or open businesses, they are not even permitted
to walk. These red roads, the guide explains,
are known in army jargon as “sterile.”
The
situation for Palestinians has improved, Bubis
acknowledges. Until just a few years ago, on
streets where pedestrian movement was allowed,
Palestinians were forced to walk down very
narrow paths sealed off by barricades. Those
barricades have since been removed. And until
just a few years ago, along one of the city's
main streets, they were not allowed to exit
their homes through the front door. Rather, they
were forced to climb up onto their roofs and
jump along the roofs of their neighbors to exit
through a back way. Those restrictions are no
longer enforced either.
By midday,
the temperatures are shooting up and it becomes
difficult to stand outside in the unshaded
street. So Muhanned Qafesha, a local journalist
and an activist in Youth Against Settlements – a
Palestinian organization that advocates
nonviolent resistance against the occupation,
comes to brief the rabbis in their
air-conditioned bus. The walk from his office to
the bus should have taken all of four minutes,
but after being held up at a military
checkpoint, as he explains while apologizing for
the delay, the trip took four times as long.
“You
people don’t live here in Hebron, like I do,” he
laments. “You come from America and from Israel,
but because of the occupation, ironically, you
have more rights in this city than I do.”
Rabbi
Daniel Burg, a Conservative rabbi from
Baltimore, has visited the West Bank before but
had never been to Hebron. “What was most
eye-opening for me,” he says on the trip back,
“was all the minutiae – how from street to
street, neighborhood to neighborhood, decisions
are made in various offices that have such a
profound effect on the lives of individuals
here.”
His
primary motivation for signing up for the trip,
he says, was his deep curiosity about Breaking
the Silence. “I was intrigued to find out
whether they deserve all the vitriol coming
their way,” Burg explains. “Instinctively, I
felt that they didn’t, but I wanted to find out
for myself.”
His
conclusion? “If this young woman leading our
group today is representative, then I would say
it’s a very important organization.”
Rabbi
Michael Adam Latz, who runs a progressive
congregation in Minneapolis, called the Hebron
tour “eye-opening and heart-wrenching.” Clearly
there have been “terrible acts of heinous
violence” on both sides – Israeli and
Palestinian, he says. “But Israel is the
occupying force here, and for me, that is deeply
deeply distressing.”
Missing
voices
On the way
back to Jerusalem, the rabbis stop at a hotel in
the Palestinian town of Beit Jala, just outside
the city, to collect their thoughts and share
impressions. “For me,” says Stephanie Kramer, a
Reform rabbi from Santa Rosa, California, “every
time I heard the term ‘sterile’ used to describe
a street, it was really painful.” Some of the
other rabbis nod their heads in agreement.
SaraLeya
Schley, a rabbi and gynecologist from Berkeley,
California, says she would have liked to have
heard other voices as well. “I found my heart
continually breaking,” she tells the group, “but
it would have been good to hear from the
settlers as well – to hear from them why they
are there.”
Kramer
responds that for her, the trip would have
achieved better balance had the IDF been able to
present its side as well. “I would hate to hear
that there are things, besides security
considerations, that are guiding them,” she
says.
Another
rabbi challenges his colleagues to step back for
a moment and consider the settler claims.
“Doesn’t a people that has returned to its
homeland have a right to live where it chooses?”
he asks them. “Isn’t that a moral right?”
Ending
their discussion, the Orthodox rabbi wonders
aloud how best to share his experiences with his
community back home. “I’m going to have to
figure out how to talk to them about the
occupation without actually using that word,” he
says.
This
article was first published by
Haaretz
-
©
Haaretz Daily Newspaper Ltd. All Rights Reserved
The
views expressed in this article are solely those
of the author and do not necessarily reflect the
opinions of Information Clearing House.
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