Settling Them Down

Truth may walk through the world unarmed.

~ Bedouin Proverb

This tiny land, this "Land Between" as it is often called, occupies a space not quite the stature of New Jersey at the intersection of continents.  Yet despite its size, Israel/Palestine packs a lot into a small package.  While the Israelis and Palestinians capture the headlines of the BBC and Al Jazeera, there is another group struggling to maintain a presence between the giants of international appeal.  These nomads and shepherds, bedouin as they are better known, roam the hills and wadis of even the harshest areas of the Judean wilderness.  Their herds of sheep and goats graze on dust and rock, straining to draw from the barren, forsaken earth the only drop of moisture it possesses, legacy of an inch of winter rains long forgotten.

Yet these miracle workers and the art they have mastered never fail to tame the land for which we can only imagine death and dispair.  Their knowledge of geography and geology bring life out of the dust to their flocks, like one who lowers her bucket and conjures water from a dry well.  The words of the psalmist come to mind when he says "he makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters."  These words of David speak not to a land of obvious bounty and bliss, but of barreness and bereavement.  And yet he understood that God supplies in the midst of the wilderness.  The bedouin are intimately aware of the delicate balance between provision and poverty; they, better than anyone, are masters of the dance with wilderness.

It is with this image that the irony of reality creeps into view.  Today the bedouin find themselves the targets of a modern effort to obtain stability and control in the region.  Despite their long presence in the land (and in reality their lifestyle speaks more to the history here than the adjacent industrialization), the authorities make continued attempts at settling down these restless people.  As tents turn to shacks and eventually to shantytowns, the freedom of the bedouin to roam the barren landscape begins to fade.  This subtle restructuring of their lifestyle may lead to the disappearance of a piece of the mosaic that makes this land so beautiful and complicated.

Must this be so?  Must the clash of civilizations find no boundary, even the harshest corners of this earth?  Will we leave no room for the cultures of our forefathers of old, instead choosing to, as the metaphor goes, fit square pegs into round holes?  This battle of old against new, wild against tamed has pitted the weak against the strong.  How can the bedouin hope to compete with the needs of their neighbors who, after engaging each other, have little time left for these nomads?  Although the bedouin believe that "truth may walk through the world unarmed," they themselves may need creativity and appreciation from the outside world if they wish to continue walking with it.

The American Role?

Over the past few weeks of class, I have experienced a phenomenon I scarcely believed possible. My collective learning experience has flip flopped ideologically more than an American presidential candidate. For those of you who are now saying to yourselves, "this guy has obviously never really watched a televised debate before," allow me to elaborate on my perspective from behind the classroom desk:

History of the Modern Middle East. This is a class taught by Oded Yinon, an Israeli journalist, former senior Israeli Foreign Affairs Ministry official and the son of a founder of the Mossad, Israel's national intelligence agency.

Palestinian Society and Politics. Taught by Bernard Sabella, member of the Palestinian Parliament (PP), board member of the Palestinian Academic Society for the Study of International Affairs (PASSIA) and professor of sociology at Bethlehem University.

Walking into History of the Modern Middle East the first day, one of the first statements I encountered was more or less to the effect that the United States has no ability to influence the conflict. Try as we might, are motives are too contradictory, our interests in the Middle East too dependent on Israel, and our pressure too subtle. In fact, Yinon confidently stated, the United States has never successfully influenced any policy changes regarding the Palestinian situation (a point which is certainly arguable).

On the other hand, the first assigned reading for Palestinian Society and Politics was an article titled "The Palestinian-Israeli Conflict: Ending the Endless War" by Stephen D. Hayes of the Foundation for Middle East Peace (http://www.fmep.org/). In this article, Hayes unswervingly asserts that the parties involved in the current conflict are completely incapable of bridging the impasse themselves and, without the mediation and determination of the United States, no "political horizon" will ever be achieved in the land, a point with which Sabella firmly agrees. In his words, the United States is the land's "last hope."

So what place do such wildly contradictory statements hold in our understanding of international relations? It is my assumption that the vast majority of readers of this blog live in the States, or have for some duration called America home. It is to these readers that I proffer the question "What, if anything, do we as Americans have to contribute to global and regional conflict in general and Middle East peace specifically?" Are we, as "outsiders looking in," inappropriately positioned to offer assistance in such matters, an argument I have often encountered? Or does our status and power in the world demand a critical assessment and/or strict engagement of global and regional conflicts and their origins?

It is to these questions that I offer two humble suggestions. The first is that we are not, in fact, "outsiders looking in." I believe that the modern era, one characterized by Thomas Friedman's flat world--the idea that the world in technological, sociological and political terms is actually shrinking--necessitates a more international process of thinking than this statement implies. To suggest that Americans are "outsiders looking in" implies that with regards to regional issues, certain areas of the globe are inside the realm of applicability, while others are outside. As the world "shrinks," however, citizens of this earth no longer have the luxury to think in such terms. While I am not suggesting that the answer is something as intense as the butterfly effect, we are faced more and more frequently with unavoidable questions of peace, justice and sustainability, among others, that transcend national boundaries. We must learn how to prepare ourselves to handle this increasingly complicated, global reality.

Secondly, and more specifically to the conflict in Israel/Palestine, I believe that the situation demands some level of creativity, something which parties mired in intense conflict often find difficult to foster. It is in these situations, including my own personal struggle of how to promote education based on a mindset of reconciliation rather than victimization, that Americans may be able to contribute. How exactly to go about this, I must defer to those with more experience and wisdom than I.

Considering my woeful inexperience in working with these issues, I leave these questions up for debate, but debate we must. We, Americans or otherwise, simply cannot afford to sit around yet again and wait for international crises to reach our doorsteps. We must boldly face the intensity of a flat world and seek to transform situations with creativity and resolve, while not forsaking patience and respect. To do so is to recognize that our lives around the world are not inseparable or our collective experience inconsequential. As our world continues to shrink, we must learn what it means to live closer together.

Roots

The setting was the room of the last supper, the tomb of David, the dormition of Mary (choose any or all of the above based on your tradition). Bound within this church/mosque/synagogue are walls that stand as monuments to the ties and clashes between these traditions. Roman columns, Arabic script, and the mihrab, the niche within a mosque marking the direction of Mecca, pay tribute to a land conquered by many, but controlled by few. Jerusalem is a city where time stands still, interminably caught in the past, yet effortlessly remaining relevant to the future.

A high holy site in Christianity, Islam and Judaism, Jerusalem engenders the fault line, nay the epicenter, of history. Each of these religions, descendants of Abraham, tower in the minds of people across the globe, three "cedars of Lebanon" undeterred by time. Their rich histories tell the story of a land forged by faith and by blood. Many adherents to these traditions, however, attempt to extricate their religion from the others, to demonize the chaff while sifting the wheat. But this is not grain. Just as cedars who stand tall among a forest, they may seem to occupy unique positions on the landscape. When one digs beneath the surface, however, we realize that the roots of these giants are tightly wound together. Countless sites across the levant, as many scholars call this "Land Between," share a common footprint in these traditions. Whether it is the aforementioned humble room that gave birth to the eucharist and enshrines the tombs of the great, or the site of the second temple, near sacrifice of Isaac, and the ascension of Muhammed into heaven now demarcated by the Dome of the Rock, Jerusalem itself is a storehouse of links between its three major religions. To dream of freeing one tradition from the grips of the others is to damage ones own life source, to cut off our own roots.

Instead, I believe we must seek to be students of our roots, to proffer "the ties that bind" as an opportunity to recognize that as members of an international community, it is possible to appreciate both our differences (which we are often quick to point out) and our similarities. To value our diversity and enjoy the "spice of life." In saying this, I intend not to imply that we must water down our own traditions like a poor cup of Nescafe. On the contrary, our common roots make it all the more important that we define our perspectives carefully. Rather, I wish to admonish the reader that in our world comprised of devoted followers of many faiths, it is essential, especially in service of justice, that we fully comprehend the essence of the proverb that "the tongue of the wise commends knowledge, but the mouth of the fool gushes folly." Our own beliefs may be based on the traditions of others. It will serve us well to hear the other voices of this land. To be a great speaker, a commander of wisdom, we must first be prepared to listen and to listen actively. Otherwise, we may very well be chopping ourselves off at the roots.