Catch The Jew!

by Tenenbom, Tuvia

  I pass by the praying actors, who are staying away from the action, and realize how smart they are. Why should they get hurt? Let the foreigners get hurt, it is the best thing for the Cause! And indeed, this formula works like magic. The German-educated Tanzanian Foreign Office official says: “When you criticize Jews they say you are anti-Semite, but now I see that it’s true what they say about the Jews!”

  I’m not sure what act or scene is now playing, I lost count inside the ambulance, but the exchange between stones plus firebombs and gas canisters involves greater quantities of flying objects on both sides and I assume that we might have reached the climax point of the show. We are probably in Act II somewhere.

  I go to sit with the Arabs, away from the tourists and the Shabab, and I speak a bit with Jibril. “Hitler could learn from them,” he says, speaking of the Jews. I have heard this line before from him, but here it has extra weight.

  Happy music is now playing from the moving loudspeakers, ever higher in volume, and this fire show now turns into a musical.

  Lina’s daughter calls her. “Why didn’t you tell me you were going to Bil’in?” she asks her mom. “I’d like so much to be there!” It’s funny to listen to this. On the one hand the Palestinians complain about the IDF throwing tear gas at them, and on the other hand they’re so sad when they miss the tear gas.

  Music stops for a few seconds. We are probably at the end of Act II.

  “Allah is with you. Kill them!” a command from the loudspeakers is now being heard, at a volume that could potentially waken Rahav of back to life, had this demonstration taken place in Jericho. The loudspeakers, directed at the Shabab, repeat over and again as loud as can be: “Allah is with you. Kill them! Allah is with you. Kill them! Allah is with you. Kill them! Allah is with you. Kill them!”

  “You” means Arabs, “them” means Jews.

  Allahu Akbar.

  I light up a cigarette. Then another. And another.

  One of the Praying Arabs, sitting pretty under a tree, urges me to run to the foreigners and throw stones at the Jews. I tell him what I’ve learned long ago from the Haredi of Israel: prayer is stronger than missiles. I’m no fool. I am Abu Ali.

  Act III, scene 4.

  Sky News is leaving the arena.

  Act III, scene 5.

  Slowly, the other journalists and video teams start making their way out.

  5 Broken Cameras, the Oscar-nominated film about the Bil’in protests, “shows life in one Palestinian village,” the New York Times writes in a glorifying review of this film. If you sit in New York and watch a docu-film you may believe that what you see is real. When you are here in Bil’in, and if you understand Arabic, you know better. “The Bil’in protests” is a show, a show of “Allah is with you. Kill them!” Personally, I don’t believe in “Death to the Arabs” and I don’t believe in “Death to the Jews,” even if the latter has been nominated for an Oscar.

  It’s time to go home and leave the praying Jews, Shlomo Sand’s Jews, behind.

  What a wonderful Independence Day.

  Our bus takes us back to the Mövenpick, and I bid goodbye to Jibril. I know that this is probably our last time together. He is bound to find out one day or another that I’m not the Aryan he has come to believe me to be, and on that day our short friendship will be completely over. Still, I like him and it’s hard for me to know that I won’t hug this man again. I’ll miss him, a man made of pride and charisma. He orders a car to take me back to Jerusalem and we part ways. On the way to Jerusalem I stop at a Palestinian grocery store to pick some good Palestinian olive oil. I look at my new bottle and notice this line: This product was not made by the occupiers.

  ***

  Back in Jerusalem I mount the light rail, the tramway that travels through the heart of Jerusalem, from the Jewish neighborhoods in the west to the Arab neighborhoods in the east. At every stop, announcements are made in three languages: Hebrew, Arabic, and English. These three languages, what a sweet miracle, live in complete harmony inside this train. It touches me deeply.

  There’s another miracle that I suddenly pay attention to, so many months into my journey: Hebrew. Millions speak of the resurrection of Jesus but almost nobody is paying attention to the other resurrection, the resurrection of the Hebrew language. So many here speak Hebrew, Jews and non-Jews, a language that practically died two thousand years ago.

  The train is packed with Arabs, Jews, and tourists who are on top of one another. I like this density. When we push one another, however soft or hard, we notice and we feel that all of us are of the same material: flesh, blood, and nerves.

  This light rail should be the dream, the symbol of any person honestly caring for human rights, as this little miracle on iron tracks brings people together in the most imaginable way humanly possible. But no, human-righters are dead set against this train. The UN Human Rights Council, in a resolution approved by 46 to 1 (the USA being the 1), states: “Mindful that Israel is a party to the Fourth Geneva Convention . . . [the UN] expresses its grave concern [about] the Israeli decision to establish and operate a tramway between West Jerusalem and the Israeli settlement of Pisgat Zeev, which is in clear violation of international law and relevant United Nations resolutions.”

  How exactly is the Fourth Geneva Convention in conflict with a light rail? The ICRC, the International Committee of the Red Cross, which states that it “acts as the guardian of International Humanitarian Law,” being the author of all of the Geneva Conventions, is an organization I should get to know better. It is “the most influential of the NGOs,” Lieutenant Colonel S. said to me at the time, and I like the word influential.

  I get off the light rail and walk over to my stray cats.

  Gate Fifty-Five

  The end: the Red Cross vs. the Jewish state. How white vans with little red crosses roam this land on a crusade to get all its Jews out.

  MORNING COMES AND I SHOW UP AT THE ICRC OFFICES IN SHEIKH JARRAH, Jerusalem. The ICRC has an office in Tel Aviv as well, but that office is “only for political reasons to show that we don’t recognize Israeli sovereignty in Jerusalem,” an official tells me.

  Sheikh Jarrah. I know this place from the time I lived in Jerusalem, a neighborhood that I also kept hearing about long after I had left as well. Sheikh Jarrah is right by the 1967 border that divided Jerusalem at the time. For years, even after Israel took over east Jerusalem in the 1967 War, Sheikh Jarrah remained an Arab-only neighborhood. But quite a lot of years ago an Israeli Sephardic Community organization claimed ownership to seventeen properties in the neighborhood and presented documents of ownership dating back to Ottoman time. Their claim was contested in various Israeli courts, a process that took years, and in 2009, following a Supreme Court decision that recognized their right, Jews moved into three houses.

  The presence of Jews in the neighborhood was followed by international condemnations and weekly demonstrations by Arabs and leftist Jews. The international community and the demonstrators demanded that Jews should not be allowed to live anywhere in Sheikh Jarrah. Why would the international community get busy with three little houses is an issue that Franz Kafka should have dealt with, not me.

  An officer with the organization shows up to greet me, and together we go to the van that will take us to Jenin, where the ICRC has been active since 1975.

  While we’re driving, the man talks. “When they demolish houses we come together with the PRC [Palestinian Red Crescent] and offer hygiene kits and tents to the people who have just lost their homes. All the buildings in Sheikh Jarrah (other than the three houses mentioned above) have ‘vacate’ orders and Israel will put settlers there.”

  I don’t know this man but by the tone of his voice I can tell that he really doesn’t like the Jews. Thank God I’m German.

  “They [Israel] will demolish your house if you cannot prove ownership, but to prove ownership is very hard because the original papers might have been filed with the Ottomans, with the British or even with the Israel
is, but the papers are somewhere in some safe. If you cannot prove ownership for the past thirty years, they will force you out. This is not all: if you add a balcony to your house they will evict you and demolish your house.”

  This is really bad. How many homes have been demolished in Sheikh Jarrah so far?

  He tries to add them all up in his mind and by the end of the process he comes up with the exact sum: zero.

  One of us must have had one shot of brandy too many. I hope it’s not him, because he’s at the wheel.

  ***

  We drive through gorgeous landscapes, which fill my heart with joy, and my new friend feeds me with more info: “To be a full member of the ICRC, Israel must remove all of its ambulance bases from disputed areas.”

  What happens if a person gets sick in the disputed areas?

  “In cases of emergency, Israel would have to coordinate entry with us to those areas.”

  In other words, if a Jewish settler on some West Bank mountain has a heart attack, he’ll have to wait until the ICRC approves an Israeli ambulance to come over from, let’s say, Tel Aviv.

  Swiss neutrality.

  My new friend continues to talk: “Israel is also not allowed to use its emblem, the Star of David, outside its own country, because this symbol is a religious symbol, it’s a Jewish sign.”

  Isn’t the Half Moon emblem, used by the PRC, an Islamic symbol?

  “Yes, it is.”

  Isn’t the PRC using this emblem?

  “Yes.”

  But the Half Moon can be used anywhere?

  “Yes.”

  Let me understand, isn’t the ICRC against the use of religious symbols?

  “No, this is different.”

  Why?

  He can’t explain this to me, but I think it’s very simple: Islam starts with an “I” and Judaism starts with a “J.”

  Quite a number of years ago in New York, I attended an event with New York Jewish leaders and then-Senator Hillary Rodham Clinton, in which she expressed her satisfaction with the Red Star of David’s acceptance as a full member by the ICRC. (The Red Star of David is called the MDA – Magen David Adom in Hebrew.) At the time it struck me as just another attempt by a New York politician to endear herself to the Jews living in her state, but now that I’m riding this ICRC van I become more curious about the ICRC membership issue. I write a note to myself to further investigate this matter.

  As the ride continues, we talk about the Fourth Geneva Convention and other delicate, happy issues.

  The Fourth Geneva Convention, created in 1949, was like the other Geneva Conventions the brainchild and creation of the ICRC, and it has become part of International Law. Here, in this part of the world, it dictates what Israel can, and cannot, do in the areas it captured in 1967. The ICRC, the man tells me, is the “guardian of International Humanitarian Law.” The ICRC’s decisions, though not legally binding, still end up being part and parcel of what is known as “International Law.”

  Interestingly, my new friend tells me that the ICRC also declared that Gaza, from which Israel withdrew in 2005, is still an Occupied Territory. This means, of course, that Israel is responsible for it and its citizens. If you live in Gaza and want to spend five years studying music, like Nadia, Israel will have to foot the bill.

  Israel withdrew from Gaza; why is it still occupied?

  “Because Israel closes its border to Gaza.”

  Syria closes the border to Israel. Is Syria, legally speaking, occupying Israel?

  “That’s different.”

  Why?

  “Israel is blocking access to Gaza through international waters.”

  What’s the difference between waters and dry land?

  My man gets a headache from me and has no idea how to handle me.

  Did the ICRC also declare Tibet and Cyprus, to cite two examples, as “occupied territories”?

  “I’ll have to come back to you on this. Contact me tomorrow.”

  Will do.

  It just so happens, and this is happening with every new mountain we approach during this ride, that a new fact about the ICRC is being revealed to me. For example: if you want to be on the board of the ICRC you must be Swiss, otherwise forget it. In addition: the ICRC board meetings, where major issues are being decided, are private affairs of the board members, and the minutes of these meetings are not made public.

  “I may be wrong on this. Put this on the list of questions,” he tells me.

  Will do.

  Is there a supervising body that checks and examines the board’s decisions?

  Well, not really. In the lands of democracy and international laws, where checks and balances must be part and parcel of the game, there are exceptions. At the highest levels of decision-making bodies at the heart of democratic societies, dictators rule supreme.

  We drive further and further, through ever-more-gorgeous landscapes with not one Jew in sight anywhere until we reach Jenin Refugee Camp, which is within the bigger city of Jenin. The camp is assisted primarily by the UNRWA (United Nations Relief and Works Agency for Palestine Refugees in the Near East), I’m told, and the ICRC has joined UNRWA’s effort.

  ***

  Israel left Jenin long ago, with all its soldiers. Why keep a refugee camp, now that the Palestinian government is the one controlling the area?

  An old man, resident of the camp, answers: “Because we want to go back to where we came from!”

  Where is that?

  “Haifa.”

  Were you born in Haifa?

  “No, I was born here. But my home is Haifa, which has been taken over by the Zionist terrorists.”

  Haifa is within the Israel of 1948. And without Haifa we can say goodbye to Israel. Is this what this man wants?

  Of course.

  I should have brought MK Ahmad Tibi along with us. It would be interesting to see if he would try to do something to this man’s cellphone.

  Instead of MK Tibi, a child comes by.

  “Where are you from?” the older man asks him.

  “Jenin.”

  “No! Where are you from?”

  “Haifa!”

  This is a show, generously financed by the UN. The UN and the ICRC employees here, Palestinian or European, nod in agreement at every “Haifa” mention, which goes against the grain of everything and anything these organizations say in public, but I prefer not to raise this issue. Instead, I ask the old man: Do you believe that you’ll get back there, to Haifa?

  “As much as I believe in Allah!”

  More people come, including local ICRC employees, and we all chat. A bunch of Jenin men, young and old, tell me that they are all “refugees from Haifa.” Good to know.

  Sitting outside an UNRWA building in the camp, a local ICRC woman explains to me what the ICRC is doing in Jenin: “We support the UNRWA activities at their community center in the Jenin Refugee Camp. Today we are painting the center and its walls outside and we are going to provide the youngsters with soccer uniforms, with balls, and with various football-related needs. In general, we tell the people here who we are and what we do, such as our protection of the civilian population against violations of international laws by the Israelis. We tell them, to give you an example, that if any of them has been beaten at a checkpoint, he should come to us and report the incident. We also tell them to come to us in case anyone is violated by the Israeli forces.”

  Lieutenant Colonel S., who told me that the ICRC doesn’t run to the press, is right, but only to an extent. The ICRC runs to the Haifa Refugees and incites them against the “Israeli forces.” The ICRC doesn’t tell them that according to “International Law” Haifa belongs to the “Israeli forces.”

  No. What they learn here is that they should keep guard against the forces, like the video-carrying couple in the Jewish part of Hebron, where kids throw stones at Jewish girls. If the “forces” try to stop them throwing stones, they take pictures and go to the good souls of the ICRC. In addition: yes, the ICRC doesn’t ru
n to the press. What they do instead is organize events for the press, as they are organizing this “event” for me just now.

  As usual, the Jews prove themselves to be pretty naïve creatures.

  Press or no press, I ask myself this question: Does the ICRC protect Palestinians or does it instigate them? And what exactly are the “UNRWA activities” that the ICRC is supporting? As far as I can see here, by the way the two interact, UNRWA and ICRC are Siamese twins.

  UNRWA. They run schools for these Haifa Refugees, but what do they teach in these schools?

  The UNRWA Community Center could provide a clue or two.

  ***

  I enter the UNRWA Center’s main hall, freshly painted by the ICRC. At the entrance there is a plaque with the name of this place: Hall of the Martyrs. I walk a few steps and then I see another hall, of the martyrs again. “Martyrs” in Palestinian culture means those who die in clashes with Israeli soldiers, or those who die while killing Jewish civilians, such as during suicide missions. I proceed to the library – yes, they have one here – and I see on the shelves a book I bought in Amman quite some time ago, a book I know to be anti-Semitic.

  UNRWA, which claims to “provide assistance and protection for some five million Palestine refugees,” is one of the cutest animals in the human rights zoo. It extends the definition of “refugee” to grandand great-grandchildren of Arabs who once lived here.

  To understand this process better, I interview a top UNRWA official to explain the process to me, and he tells me that the UN is extending refugee status to other international refugees as well, not only Palestinians, only he is short on details and instead sends me to “Google” on my own. When I ask him if Germans and Hungarians who fled certain geographical areas during WWII, or those who were ordered to leave their homes by the end of the war, are also refugees, including their great-grandchildren, he looks at me as if I have just lost my mind. When asked to tell me how many Palestinian refugees there are, not just those registered with UNRWA, he estimates that there are eleven million Palestinian refugees alive today.