Uprooting the Olive Tree

by Lloyd Philip Johnson

  “He’s lucky I didn’t strangle him!” Sami slumped in his seat and continued in a softer tone. “I know that Jesus said to love our neighbor, even our enemies. But that’s so hard to do. Year after year, decade after decade, they occupy our country, take our land, jail our kids, kill us if we don’t do obeisance to soldiers younger than I am … I don’t know, Jamal. What are we supposed to do with this guy? Sidle up to him and tell him we love him?”

  Jamal inhaled for a long moment and held his breath. He exhaled with a quick raising of his hands. After a few moments, Jamal chuckled. “I’d like to see you do that some time. But pick a soldier without a gun.”

  They drove on in silence. Finally Sami asked, “What are you going to do now to stop this robbery of their farm?”

  “There’s nothing I can do, Sami. Like I explained to Faisal and Almas, they’ll have to appeal to the Supreme Court, and they’ll need an Israeli lawyer to do that. And it will be costly for them.”

  “In the meantime, the farm will be destroyed, the trees burned up and they’ll lose everything they’ve worked for.” Sami looked up, raising his hands to the car roof. “Oh Lord, how long?”

  CHAPTER 44

  Ashley had wanted to visit Faisal and Almas but needed Najid to translate for her. I must start Arabic classes soon, she thought. Same for her getting acquainted in East Jerusalem. She learned bus routes to get around the city but needed Arabic at least for chatting with people. She didn’t want to be so foreign since they would be living here long term. Hebrew would also be important to learn.

  The younger generations knew English, and the city was rife with English speaking tourists. But Ashley wanted to converse with everyone. Ashley thought of Fatima when her cell phone rang. “Asalem alekum,” she tried.

  She heard giggling on the other end. Then in English she heard, “Pretty good, Ashley.”

  She recognized the accent. “Well, I’m trying, Fatima.”

  “I know, and we’ll have you speaking Arabic before long.”

  “I hope so. You can teach me. Any news about Ali?”

  “No. We are counting the days he has left before he can be free. Twelve of them if they don’t renew the sentence, which they might do since he won’t confess to throwing a stone. We hope he is well, but we have no news. They don’t tell us anything. And we can’t see him. We may have to ask you and Najid to bring him home.”

  “We’d love to do that. Probably on the bus since we’ve taken the rental car back.”

  “That would relieve my parents a lot, just to know you might be willing to get Ali. But that’s not why I called.”

  “So what’s on your mind, Fatima?”

  “Could we have lunch together, maybe today? You are my big sister now, and I’d like to get your ideas about something.”

  “Okay … I think I can make it on the bus to the Bible College by twelve-thirty.”

  ***

  Fatima had finished her falafel and salad in the quiet little restaurant on the Hebron Road a few blocks south of the college. She had put on her hijab to leave the building, this one a dark-green floral print.

  “So, Fatima, what’s on your mind?”

  “You Americans are so direct.” Fatima blushed. “I don’t know how to start.”

  “Just remember that whatever you say stays with me. And you can say anything, and I won’t get upset, nor will I share it, even with Najid.”

  “Okay. Do you remember when we were walking through the market and got separated? You and Najid did some shopping and Sami and I walked on ahead?”

  “Yes, we had a good time. It looked like you and Sami did too.”

  Her face flushed a bit as she nodded. “Yes. He told me about his growing up years and how he is a Christian, and also walks with Jesus. You understand from Najid that you can be born Christian here but not care much about him.”

  “Right.”

  “He asked me about my past, and I think you know about that, and why I wear the head covering when I’m out. He seemed surprised that a cultural Muslim could also follow our Lord.”

  “So does that bother you?”

  “Oh no. We had a wonderful time together. Neither one of us wanted it to end and we both said so.”

  “Did you see each other again?”

  “Not that way. Not alone. Actually, in our culture young people my age have not usually been alone together. It’s usually not acceptable to date like you do in Western countries. Except in some places like Ramallah.”

  “So how do you get to know each other?”

  “Usually when families or friends meet together or in classes or social gatherings. Then it’s accepted that two people can get better acquainted and spend time together, in the group.”

  “What about your families? Do they have to get involved?”

  “Yes. And that is the problem, Ashley. Sami may call me and want to come here to visit in my home. I would like that. Even though my parents don’t attend mosques or pray frequently, they are Muslim. Wonderful people. So we do come from different backgrounds and cultures—and religions.”

  “Do you think that might be a problem with your family?”

  “Yes. And maybe his also.”

  “Have you talked with your parents about this?”

  “Oh no! They know nothing about my friendship with Sami.”

  “Do you think you should?”

  “I don’t know. I’m afraid to talk with them about it. They did let me go to the Bible College for a good education. And they do admire Jesus and know that I try to follow him.”

  “Do they know that he is Lord of your life?”

  “I’ve told them he is and they accept that as long as I stay in my Muslim culture with my family and friends. They seem to like the way my life is going, so they don’t worry about me and they do like the college.”

  “Have they told you not to make friends with Christian young men at school?”

  “No. But it hasn’t come up since my classmates are just friends. You know what I mean?”

  “Yes. But Sami is different?”

  “Not yet. He’s just a friend. But this is hard for me to say. I think he likes me in a romantic way, and I like him, well, that way too. So if he calls me is it okay to talk with him, or e-mail him? And what if he wants to come to visit me? Or see more of me? I don’t know if this could become serious, but it might, and then how do I handle everything with my parents? I am afraid that they may refuse to let me see him because he comes from the Christian side.”

  “But Christians and Muslims seem to get along here very well. They both have a common enemy in the occupation.”

  “True. It’s not that we don’t respect Christians. It’s just that they are different. And when it comes to romance, we usually look to our own group.”

  “Could you invite Sami to dinner at your home sometime?”

  “I think so. We could have you and Najid over as well.”

  “That would work. And Sami can stay with us anytime. We love to have him around. He’s a bit crazy at times, in a good way. And funny. But he’s smart, and his faith is very real.”

  “Oh, Ashley! That would be wonderful. Then my parents could just get to know Sami.” “And you could too.”

  “And I wouldn’t have to talk to them about him?”

  “No, at this point, you’re just friends. I think your parents would enjoy Sami a lot. And you could spend time together with him and your family. Ali would like Sami. He’s a big kid at heart. He’s a good football player. I know. He and I beat his three younger brothers up in Galilee.”

  CHAPTER 45

  Najid tightened his loose tie as they entered the elegant dining room of the King David Hotel in Jerusalem. Ashley wore the only black dress she owned. Looking around the grand lobby, she took in the overstuffed chairs, rugs, and columns interspersed by well-dressed people enjoying a drink or chatting in small groups. She remembered reading of Menachim Began’s blowing up the hotel, killing ninety British soldiers in the mid 1940s
. But it had become the hotel for presidents and potentates.

  The maître d’ in a black tuxedo met them asking in English for their names. He then ushered them past tables of silver and crystal goblets, many occupied with important looking people. Najid winked at Ashley as they approached a corner largely out of sight of the main dining area. Wearing a blue suit, Uri stood ramrod straight beside his wife, Carmella. She smiled and gave both of them a hug. Najid shook hands with Uri.

  “Welcome,” Carmella said in flawless English. “I’m so glad you could join us. You look happy. Are you enjoying Jerusalem?”

  “We are happy, and yes, we do enjoy being here,” Ashley replied.

  “Sir, you look better than when we last met,” Najid said with a grin.

  “I don’t remember.” Uri spoke English with a thick accent. He motioned to the plush dining chairs. “Sit down.”

  He seemed curt to Ashley, no smile and not friendly. She hadn’t realized he was so tall, seeing him upright for the first time. Flecks of gray peppered his short black hair. Maybe he was still recovering. “Have you gone back to work?”

  “Not yet.” He looked away at the waiter who approached in a black tuxedo, white napkin over his arm. He took drink orders.

  “I’d like to know about you two,” Carmella said with a quick withering glance at her husband before turning to Najid.

  “I grew up in Israel, Christian Palestinian from Genger, graduated from university in Haifa, grad school in Seattle, met Ashley there, got married recently in the US, and now we live here. I teach biology at Bethlehem University.”

  “Whew, that was quick,” Carmella said. “How about you, Ashley?”

  “Oklahoma where the wind blows, that’s my home. Graduated from college there and then grad school at the University of Washington where I ran into this guy. The rest is like he said. But I want to know about you. After all, we met in unusual circumstances.”

  “It was unreal, like a bad dream. But you two appeared like angels. We are not observant Jews, but I believe some power must have sent you.” Carmella stopped for several moments and then continued, her voice breaking. “I thought Uri was gone. We’ve been married for thirty years.”

  “How did you meet?”

  “At Hebrew University here in Jerusalem. I’m a secondary school teacher now going back after raising our two children. One of them is still in college, and the other just married. Uri was in his last year in law school. I ran into him at a party. We married after a whirlwind courtship of six months. But you’ll want to hear about him.” She turned to her husband. “Tell them what happened.”

  Uri gave a quick shrug. “Not much to tell except I was jerked out of my law practice, appointed to the Knesset by the Likud party, and then they made me Minister of Internal Affairs in the Cabinet.” He stopped to take a sip of wine.

  “So what does your ministry do?” Ashley asked.

  “We manage people, give them ID cards, decide who can come and go, do visas, passports—that kind of thing.”

  “Does that include people in Palestine?” Najid asked.

  “There is no Palestine. If you’re referring to Judea and Samaria, yes. Of course. ID’s and passports. But you are Israeli, right? So you must be a citizen even if you are an Arab.”

  “Yes, I am. But I work in the occupied territory, in Bethlehem. So I’m learning more of the lack of freedom there. They have to get special permits to enter Israel, even though they are part of Judea and Samaria. If the land is all part of Israel, why are they treated differently from all other Israelis?”

  “It works both ways. We keep Jews out from Area A, the cities there. And Palestinians from the territories can’t come here.”

  “What about the settlements in Area A?”

  “Those are communities we have built because they belong there and we own the land.”

  “We have a different view of that. Have you been to the West Bank?” Najid asked.

  “No, it’s dangerous. We don’t go across the wall, except to the Jewish communities there and on special roads only we can use. We do live in East Jerusalem, in Male Adumim, but that is land in Judea we’ve had for years.”

  “Do you know any Arabs from there?”

  “No, I don’t. We don’t meet together. We are separate and that is best for both sides.”

  “But here I am.” Najid smiled. “You just met one.”

  “I’m going to call a halt to all this politics!” Carmella glared at her husband. “We are here to thank you both for saving Uri’s life. I want you two to tell him just what you did, how you found him in the first place. All the details. He has no idea what you did, and why you did it.”

  Ashley, relieved that they could switch subjects, began to tell the story, starting with leaving Ali behind at the trial. Carmella’s eyes widened at that. Ashley involved Najid at times and could see Uri bristle when Najid spoke. So she took over, gently, describing the scene. Carmella had watery eyes. As Ashley spoke of resuscitating him, she saw his eyes grow wide. He put his hands up around his face. She continued, lauding the medics for following up and getting him quickly back to Haifa.

  Uri slumped in his chair and exhaled loudly. “You really saved my life, both of you. I don’t know what to say or how to thank you. Is there anything we can do for you?”

  “You’re taking us to dinner in a place we’d never be able to afford.” Najid winked at Ashley. “And we haven’t even ordered yet,” he said, reaching for his wine goblet.

  Carmella nodded. “Yes, but isn’t there something you need or want that we could help you with?”

  “We don’t expect a further reward, or even want one. We just did what anyone would do seeing a car rolling over in a field,” Ashley said.

  “But our culture uses rewards for our friends and revenge for our enemies.”

  “Maybe there is something you could do,” Najid began.

  Ashley looked wide-eyed at him.

  “We mentioned at the beginning just now, that we left a little ten year-old boy in prison, in the Haifa interrogation center. He’s still there.”

  “Why?” Carmella asked. “Why would they put a little boy in jail? I’ve never heard of such things or read about them. Is that something you know about, Uri?”

  “Not really. Arrests in Judea and Samaria are not in my portfolio. We just don’t know much of what goes on over the wall. It’s best we don’t,” he said, patting his wife’s hand.

  “So what happened to him?” Carmella looked pale. She stared at Najid. “Tell us.”

  Both Najid and Ashley related Ali’s arrest, imprisonment, and trial. They mentioned the lawyer could not get a permit for the parents to visit nor find out anything about the conditions Ali had to endure in his cell.

  Carmella sat in silence gazing at her husband who looked away. Finally she spoke. “I’d never heard of anything like that! Arresting children in the middle of the night. Have you ever heard of that, Uri?”

  The Israeli cabinet member grimaced. “Yes, I have.”

  “Well, we can help, can’t we, Uri? You’re in charge of permits and ID cards. We need to get a permit for Ali’s parents to see him. And get him released. Najid has the evidence he didn’t throw a stone—from his soldier friend.”

  Uri nodded. “After what you have done for me, I’ll see to it that Ali’s parents get there. As for getting him released, I don’t have anything to do with that. But I’ll need more information. So let’s meet tomorrow evening right here in the lobby. I’m not officially back at work, and this hotel will be close for both of us.”

  Ashley could barely hold her tears back thinking of Ali getting at least to see his family. She leaned over to give Uri a hug.

  CHAPTER 46

  Jamal shook his head with the phone on his ear. He couldn’t believe Najid’s call about meeting with the Minster of Internal Affairs. “How did you arrange that?”

  “I didn’t. His wife, Carmella, called us.”

  “Tell me what happened.”

>   Najid explained the dinner at the King David Hotel. “It turned out to be quite a conversation, but ended with them wanting to do something for us. So I mentioned Ali.”

  “You know this man has the responsibility for all ID cards, permits, and passports in Israel and the West Bank?”

  “We learned that, Jamal. He said he would arrange a permit for Saleh and Jamilah to go to Haifa to visit Ali.”

  “That’s great. But he’ll need more information.”

  “That’s why I’m calling you. We’re meeting tonight at the King David Hotel, eight o’clock after I get off work. Since you have already applied for a travel permit for them and have all their information, we need you to come. Can you? It will be fine with the minister.”

  “Uh … yes. I’ll be there.”

  ***

  Both lawyers and Najid sat down after the introductions in the Grand Lobby. The minister seemed more relaxed and even a bit friendly to Jamal, despite being with two Palestinians. Jamal exchanged pleasantries in Hebrew and seemed deferential to the official, but not fawning. “I’m happy to hear you are willing to help us get Ali’s family to Haifa for a visit.”

  “I’m doing it for this young man and his wife for saving my life. I understand you were there at the accident as well.”

  “Yes, but I just stood back in awe at what they did. I’m so glad they succeeded.”

  “Obviously I am too. But now I need to get your information to arrange a permit for the family’s travel.”

  “They have a daughter who would also like to go, Fatima,” Jamal said. “She is close to Ali. Would you include her?”

  “Of course. Let me see what you have put together.” Uri looked over Jamal’s copy of the permit application he’d submitted. “Looks like you’ve done all the work. I’ll just send this back with my instructions to stamp it approved.”

  “Good. Can we pick it up at the ministry office in the morning?”

  “It’ll be ready for you by ten.”

  “We appreciate that. Now one other matter. We need to know if you can help us get Ali released. They could extend his imprisonment with administrative detention. The family is worried that could happen.”