This
section
will
go
through
the
ongoing
crisis
in
Israel
and
Palestine.
It
will
outline
the
facts
of
the
crisis
and
will
include
stories,
poetry,
and
peulot.
Facts From the Mitchell Commission
They
Took
My
Son
To Be Israeli (December version) – Yair Lapid (2001)
The Palestinian Vision of Peace
An end to Israeli occupation will mean a just war
After
the
utter
failure
of
the
Camp
David
talks
in
2000,
the
Palestinian
people
again
felt
frustration
toward
the—what
seemed
to
be
never-ending—occupation
and
the
leadership
of
the
Palestinian
National
Authority.
On
September
28,
2000,
Ariel
Sharon,
a
man
many
Palestinians
consider
to
be
a
war
criminal,
visited
the
Temple
Mount
in
Jerusalem.
Riots
erupted
throughout
the
territories
and
Arab
cities
in
Israel
almost
immediately.
The
following
day
Hamas
declared
a
Day
of
Rage
and
violence
continued
to
escalate.
After
seven
months
of
violence,
the
Mitchell
Commission
published
a
report
that
outlined
the
causes
and
events
of
the
Al-Aqsa
Intifada.
The
findings
of
the
report
are
summarized
below.
·
In
late
September
2000,
Israeli,
Palestinian,
and
other
officials
received
reports
that
Member
of
the
Knesset
(now
Prime
Minister)
Ariel
Sharon
was
planning
a
visit
to
the
Haram
al-Sharif/Temple
Mount
in
Jerusalem.
Palestinian
and
U.S.
officials
urged
then
Prime
Minister
Ehud
Barak
to
prohibit
the
visit.
Mr.
Barak
told
us
that
he
believed
the
visit
was
intended
to
be
an
internal
political
act
directed
against
him
by
a
political
opponent,
and
he
declined
to
prohibit
it.
·
Mr.
Sharon
made
the
visit
on
September
28
accompanied
by
over
1,000
Israeli
police
officers.
Although
Israelis
viewed
the
visit
in
an
internal
political
context,
Palestinians
saw
it
as
highly
provocative
to
them.
On
the
following
day,
in
the
same
place,
a
large
number
of
unarmed
Palestinian
demonstrators
and
a
large
Israeli
police
contingent
confronted
each
other.
According
to
the
U.S.
Department
of
State,
“Palestinians
held
large
demonstrations
and
threw
stones
at
police
in
the
vicinity
of
the
Western
Wall.
Police
used
rubber-coated
metal
bullets
and
live
ammunition
to
disperse
the
demonstrators,
killing
4
persons
and
injuring
about
200.”
According
to
the
GOI
(Government
of
Israel),
14
policemen
were
injured.
·
Similar
demonstrations
took
place
over
the
following
several
days.
Thus
began
what
has
become
known
as
the
“Al-Aqsa
Intifada”
(Al-Aqsa
being
a
mosque
at
the
Haram
al-
Sharif/Temple
Mount).
·
The
GOI
asserts
that
the
immediate
catalyst
for
the
violence
was
the
breakdown
of
the
Camp
David
negotiations
on
July
25,
2000
and
the
“widespread
appreciation
in
the
international
community
of
Palestinian
responsibility
for
the
impasse.”
In
this
view,
Palestinian
violence
was
planned
by
the
PA
leadership,
and
was
aimed
at
“provoking
and
incurring
Palestinian
casualties
as
a
means
of
regaining
the
diplomatic
initiative.”
·
The
Palestinian
Liberation
Organization
(PLO)
denies
the
allegation
that
the
Intifada
was
planned.
It
claims,
however,
that
“Camp
David
represented
nothing
less
than
an
attempt
by
Israel
to
extend
the
force
it
exercises
on
the
ground
to
negotiations.”
·
From
the
perspective
of
the
PLO,
Israel
responded
to
the
disturbances
with
excessive
and
illegal
use
of
deadly
force
against
demonstrators;
behavior
which,
in
the
PLO’s
view,
reflected
Israel’s
contempt
for
the
lives
and
safety
of
Palestinians.
For
Palestinians,
the
widely
seen
images
of
Muhammad
al
Durra
in
Gaza
on
September
30,
shot
as
he
huddled
behind
his
father,
reinforced
that
perception.
·
From
the
perspective
of
the
GOI,
the
demonstrations
were
organized
and
directed
by
the
Palestinian
leadership
to
create
sympathy
for
their
cause
around
the
world
by
provoking
Israeli
security
forces
to
fire
upon
demonstrators,
especially
young
people.
For
Israelis,
the
lynching
of
two
military
reservists,
First
Sgt.
Vadim
Novesche
and
First
Cpl.
Yosef
Avrahani,
in
Ramallah
on
October
12,
reflected
a
deep-seated
Palestinian
hatred
of
Israel
and
Jews.
·
What
began
as
a
series
of
confrontations
between
Palestinian
demonstrators
and
Israeli
security
forces,
which
resulted
in
the
GOI’s
initial
restrictions
of
the
movement
of
people
and
goods
in
the
West
Bank
and
Gaza
Strip
(closures),
has
since
evolved
into
a
wider
array
of
violent
actions
and
responses.
·
In
their
submissions,
the
parties
traded
allegations
about
the
motivation
and
degree
of
control
exercised
by
the
other.
However,
we
were
provided
with
no
persuasive
evidence
that
the
Sharon
visit
was
anything
other
than
an
internal
political
act;
neither
were
we
provided
with
persuasive
evidence
that
the
PA
planned
the
uprising.
·
Accordingly,
we
have
no
basis
on
which
to
conclude
that
there
was
a
deliberate
plan
by
the
PA
to
initiate
a
campaign
of
violence
at
the
first
opportunity;
or
to
conclude
that
there
was
a
deliberate
plan
by
the
GOI
to
respond
with
lethal
force.
·
However,
there
is
also
no
evidence
on
which
to
conclude
that
the
PA
made
a
consistent
effort
to
contain
the
demonstrations
and
control
the
violence
once
it
began;
or
that
the
GOI
made
a
consistent
effort
to
use
non-lethal
means
to
control
demonstrations
of
unarmed
Palestinians.
Amid
rising
anger,
fear,
and
mistrust,
each
side
assumed
the
worst
about
the
other
and
acted
accordingly.
·
The
Sharon
visit
did
not
cause
the
“Al-Aqsa
Intifada.”
But
it
was
poorly
timed
and
the
provocative
effect
should
have
been
foreseen;
indeed,
it
was
foreseen
by
those
who
urged
that
the
visit
be
prohibited.
More
significant
were
the
events
that
followed:
The
decision
of
the
Israeli
police
on
September
29
to
use
lethal
means
against
the
Palestinian
demonstrators;
and
the
subsequent
failure,
as
noted
above,
of
either
party
to
exercise
restraint.
·
The
roots
of
the
current
violence
extend
much
deeper
than
an
inconclusive
summit
conference.
Both
sides
have
made
clear
a
profound
disillusionment
with
the
behavior
of
the
other
in
failing
to
meet
the
expectations
arising
from
the
peace
process.
·
We
are
struck
by
the
divergent
expectations
expressed
by
the
parties
in
relating
to
the
implementation
of
the
Oslo
process.
Results
achieved
from
this
process
were
unthinkable
less
than
10
years
ago.
During
the
latest
round
of
negotiations,
the
parties
were
closer
to
a
permanent
settlement
than
ever
before.
·
Nonetheless,
Palestinians
and
Israeli
alike
told
us
that
the
premise
on
which
the
Oslo
process
is
based
–
that
tackling
the
hard
“permanent
status”
issues
be
deferred
to
the
end
of
the
process
–
has
gradually
come
under
serious
pressure.
·
The
GOI
has
placed
primacy
on
moving
toward
a
Permanent
Status
Agreement
in
a
nonviolent
atmosphere,
consistent
with
commitments
contained
in
the
agreements
between
the
parties.
·
The
PLO
view
is
that
delays
in
the
process
have
been
the
result
of
an
Israeli
attempt
to
prolong
and
solidify
the
occupation…
“In
sum,
Israel’s
proposals
at
Camp
David
provided
for
Israel’s
annexation
of
the
best
Palestinian
lands,
the
perpetuation
of
Israeli
control
over
East
Jerusalem,
a
continued
military
presence
on
Palestinian
territory,
Israeli
control
over
Palestinian
natural
resources,
airspace
and
borders,
and
the
return
of
fewer
than
1%
of
refugees
to
their
homes.”
·
Both
sides
see
the
lack
of
full
compliance
with
agreements
reached
since
the
opening
of
the
peace
process
as
evidence
of
a
lack
of
good
faith.
This
conclusion
led
to
an
erosion
of
trust
even
before
the
permanent
status
negotiations
began.
·
During
the
last
seven
months,
these
views
have
hardened
into
divergent
realities.
Each
side
views
the
other
as
having
acted
in
bad
faith;
as
having
turned
the
optimism
of
Oslo
into
suffering
and
grief
of
victims
and
their
loved
ones.
In
their
statements
and
actions,
each
side
demonstrates
a
perspective
that
fails
to
recognize
any
truth
in
the
perspective
of
the
other.
·
For
the
Palestinian
side,
“Madrid”
and
“Oslo”
heralded
the
prospect
of
a
State,
and
guaranteed
an
end
to
the
occupation
and
a
resolution
of
outstanding
matters
within
an
agreed
time.
Palestinians
are
genuinely
angry
at
the
continued
growth
of
settlements
and
at
their
daily
experiences
of
humiliation
and
disruption
as
a
result
of
Israel’s
presence
in
the
Palestinian
territories.
Palestinians
see
settlers
and
settlements
in
their
midst
not
only
as
violating
the
spirit
of
the
Oslo
process,
but
also
as
application
of
force
in
the
form
of
Israel’s
overwhelming
military
superiority.
·
The
PLO
also
claims
that
the
GOI
has
failed
to
comply
with
other
commitments,
such
as
the
further
withdrawal
from
the
West
Bank
and
the
release
of
Palestinian
prisoners.
In
addition,
Palestinians
expressed
frustration
with
the
impasse
over
refugees
and
the
deteriorating
economic
circumstances
in
the
West
Bank
and
Gaza
Strip.
·
From
the
GOI
perspective,
the
expansion
of
settlement
activity
and
the
taking
of
measures
to
facilitate
the
convenience
and
safety
of
settlers
do
not
prejudice
the
outcome
of
permanent
status
negotiations…
·
Indeed,
Israelis
point
out
that
at
the
Camp
David
summit
and
during
subsequent
talks,
the
GOI
offered
to
make
significant
concessions
with
respect
to
the
settlements
in
the
context
of
an
overall
agreement.
·
Security,
however,
is
the
key
GOI
concern.
The
GOI
maintains
that
the
PLO
has
breached
its
solemn
commitments
by
continuing
the
use
of
violence
in
the
pursuit
of
political
objectives…
·
According
to
the
GOI,
the
Palestinian
failure
takes
on
several
forms:
Institutionalized
anti-Israel,
anti-Jewish
incitement;
the
release
from
detention
of
terrorists;
the
failure
to
control
illegal
weapons;
and
the
actual
conduct
of
violent
operations…
The
GOI
maintains
that
the
PLO
has
significantly
violated
its
renunciation
of
terrorism
and
other
acts
of
violence,
thereby
significantly
eroding
trust
between
the
parties.
Question:
·
What
were
the
major
causes
of
the
Al-Aqsa
Intifada?
·
How
could
the
crisis
come
to
an
end?
Goal:
Discuss
the
current
uprising;
uncover
a
few
myths
and
biases;
discuss
the
ramifications
that
the
Intifadah
will
have
on
chinuch
at
machaneh
this
summer.
Age:
Older
chanichim
Materials:
pens,
paper,
scissors
Method:
in
a
group
of
3-5
read
the
Mitchell
Report
brief
summary
of
events
(or
a
more
updated
summary).
Rewrite
the
facts
into
a
brief
newspaper/magazine
article
and
pick
a
picture
to
go
along
with
it.
(40
min)
Perspectives:
CNN
(neutral),
BBC
(neutral),
Jerusalem
Post
(right
of
center),
Ha’aretz
(left
of
center),
Al
Quds
(Palestinian),
Al
Hadath
(Jordanian).
Sikkum:
The
groups
should
get
together
and
present
their
articles.
A
discussion
should
be
facilitated
by
a
madrich
in
which
the
different
viewpoints
(i.e.,
Palestinian,
Palestinian-Israeli,
Israeli
right
wing/left
wing,
etc.)
are
presented,
what
is
our
responsibility
as
madrichim
of
Habonim
Dror?
By
Tom
Darom,
Israel
Imagine
yourself
grow
up,
get
married
and
give
birth
to
a
beautiful
son.
You
love
him,
you
raise
him,
you
watch
him
grow.
You
make
dreams
about
his
future,
and
after
18
years
you
know
that
it’s
time
for
him
to
join
the
army.
You
look
at
him,
and
you’re
proud
of
that
young
man
you’ve
raised.
But
together
with
that
pride
you’re
also
afraid,
for
joining
the
army
means
that
you’re
willing
to
die
for
your
country.
That
fear
exists
inside
of
you,
you
miss
him
when
he’s
away.
You’re
eager
to
look
at
him,
to
feel
him,
to
hear
his
voice.
Then
comes
the
phone
call,
and
he
says
everything’s
ok,
and
that
calms
you
down
a
bit.
You
live
from
a
phone
call
to
a
phone
call,
and
at
the
time
between
you
just
wait.
And
then,
one
day,
you’re
told
that
your
son
has
been
kidnapped.
Then
you
realize
that
there
won’t
be
anymore
phone
calls.
You
realize
that
no
matter
how
eager
you
are
to
see
him,
to
feel
him,
to
hear
his
voice,
it
won’t
happen.
You
know
that
someone
took
your
son
away
from
you
and
you
can’t
even
know
if
someone
let
him
live,
or
killed
him.
The
time
goes
by
and
you
still
have
no
idea
what
those
kidnappers
are
doing
to
your
son,
and
how
is
he,
considering
he
is
alive.
You
know
you
can’t
lose
hope
because
it
would
mean
killing
your
child.
So
you
continue
living
with
that
unknowing
that
is
killing
you
inside.
You
can’t
lose
hope
because
it
would
mean
turning
your
back
to
your
son.
You
wish
you
could
speak
to
the
kidnappers
and
explain
to
them
your
pain,
explain
to
them
that
the
boy
they’ve
kidnapped
is
someone’s
son,
brother,
or
friend.
To
make
them
understand
that
someone
who
is
doing
something
like
that
can’t
be
human.
But
time
keeps
going
by.
A
month,
six
months,
a
year.
No
sign
of
hope,
nothing
to
hold
on
to,
no
idea
if
your
son
is
still
breathing.
Everyone
else
says
that
chances
are
small,
but
giving
up
hope
would
mean
killing
your
own
child.
So
you
wait,
and
you
wait,
without
knowing
how
long.
It
could
be
a
day,
a
year,
and
could
be
forever.
And
there
is
no
happy
ending
to
this
story
because
time
still
keeps
going
by…
Taken
from
Volume
2,
no.
11
of
Crossing
Borders,
a
bi-monthly
regional
(Israel,
Palestine,
Jordan)
youth
magazine.
Translated
by:
Shoshana
Becker
To
Be
Israeli.
To
turn
the
TV
on
at
night
and
see
that
instead
of
“Rambo
III”
they
are
showing
a
local
thriller
with
us
starring
in
it.
To
hope
that
no
one
you
know
is
there,
to
be
happy
no
one
you
know
was
there,
to
be
ashamed
you
were
happy.
To
keep
looking
even
though
you
know
what
the
next
picture
will
be.
To
say
“Unbelievable
!
I
was
there
just
two
weeks
ago
!”.
To
feel
you
survived
even
though
you
weren’t
even
close.
To
walk
around
the
house
at
2am,
quietly
watch
the
children
sleeping.
To
think
that
like
that,
under
their
sheets,
they
suddenly
look
small
again.
To
Be
Israeli.
To
know
something
happened
by
the
songs
they
play
on
the
radio.
To
think,
to
yourself,
that
Davka
after
terror
attacks
they
play
the
best
songs.
To
understand
that
if
they
say
“there
are
casualties”,
they
really
mean
“there
are
dead
people”,
and
that
“critically
wounded”
means
“fighting
for
their
lives”.
To
phone
your
family,
even
though
its
late
and
just
Stam
ask
them
how
they
are.
To
go
to
the
mall
like
you
are
going
to
Miluim,
to
go
to
Miluim
like
you
are
going
to
the
mall.
To
say,
“If
I
were
smart,
I’d
move
to
Australia”,
but
not
really
mean
it.
To
fight,
a
little
bit
more
than
usual,
with
the
person
you
are
living
with,
but
not
admit
to
yourself
it
is
because
of
stress.
To
Be
Israeli.
To
say
“we
have
to
show
them
!”,
without
knowing
who
“they”
are.
To
say,
“this
could
not
keep
going
on
like
that”
but
be
afraid
it
will
keep
going
on
exactly
like
that.
To
say,
“we
need
to
take
back
Gaza”,
just
to
hear
yourself
say
it.
To
understand
there
is
no
simple
solution,
but
still
hope
there
is.
To
Listen
to
those
radio
shows
where
people
call
in
and
say
awful
things,
to
think
it
shows
how
low
we
reached,
but
also
want
a
little
to
call
in
yourself.
To
remember
you
have
relied
on
too
many
leaders
that
have
let
you
down
but
tell
yourself
there
still
may
be
someone
else.
To
tell
yourself
it’s
time
to
write
a
will,
but
not
do
so.
To
Be
Israeli.
To
feel,
in
the
middle
of
the
day,
unexplainably
tired,
starting
from
the
shoulders
and
going
down
the
spine.
To
be
“Chiloni”
and
ask,
“What’s
with
god
?”,
or
“Dati”
that
asks,
“what
about
Tsahal
?”.
To
say
“more
people
die
in
car
accidents”
but
not
to
be
sure
it’s
till
true.
To
calculate
that
after
Jerusalem
and
Haifa
it
will
be
Tel
Aviv’s
turn.
To
be
angry
when
people
say
“a
sophisticated
terror
attack”,
because
they
don’t
deserve
such
a
compliment.
To
meet
a
friend
that
asks
if
you’ve
heard
that
George
Harrison
died,
and
think
he
must
be
living
on
Mars.
To
know
for
sure
that
in
a
day
or
two
you
will
find
out
you
knew
someone
that
was
killed
or
someone
who
knew
someone
that
was
killed.
To
Be
Israeli.
To
say,
“I’m
fine,
but
the
country
is
in
deep
SHIT.
To
start
sentences
with
“apart
from
the
Matsav…”.
To
cancel
travels
because
of
bad
timing
and
then
go
anyway
because
“damn
it
all”.
To
remember
Rabin
for
no
reason.
To
discover
you
never
spoke
to
your
son
about
that
war
and
swear
you’ll
find
the
time
for
it.
To
want
to
go
to
that
Georgian
film
everyone
is
talking
about,
because
you
want
something
Israeli.
To
eat
a
little
more
than
usually,
wake
up
late
and
go
for
a
run,
to
notice
that
lately
everyone
is
telling
jokes.
To
know
it
all
symbolizes
something,
but
not
be
sure
WHAT.
To
Be
Israeli.
To
feel
the
country
is
a
little
too
complicated
for
you.
To
exchange
familiar
phrases/words
with
strangers,
to
hear
foreign
phrases/words
from
people
you
thought
you
knew
well.
To
be
comforted
by
the
fact
that
this
year
at
least
it
is
raining.
To
stand
by
the
window
with
a
cup
of
tea
in
your
hand
and
think,
for
the
first
time
in
years
how
nice
God
is
for
cleaning
up
the
world
like
that.
To
agree
to
accept
a
post-dated
cheque,
because
it
also
has
to
do
with
the
Matsav.
To
sit
down
at
night
with
all
your
bills
and
decide
it’s
time
to
cut
back.
To
look
at
pictures
instead
of
reading
the
paper.
To
Be
Israeli.
To
be
a
better
person,
a
little
better
than
you
thought
you
can
be.
Questions:
·
How
have
Israelis
suffered
through
this
crisis?
·
In
light
of
these
sufferings,
will
the
Israeli
people
be
willing
to
be
partners
in
peace?
By
Yasser
Arafat
RAMALLAH
—
For
the
past
16
months,
Israelis
and
Palestinians
have
been
locked
in
a
catastrophic
cycle
of
violence,
a
cycle
which
only
promises
more
bloodshed
and
fear.
The
cycle
has
led
many
to
conclude
that
peace
is
impossible,
a
myth
borne
out
of
ignorance
of
the
Palestinian
position.
Now
is
the
time
for
the
Palestinians
to
state
clearly,
and
for
the
world
to
hear
clearly,
the
Palestinian
vision.
But
first,
let
me
be
very
clear.
I
condemn
the
attacks
carried
out
by
terrorist
groups
against
Israeli
civilians.
These
groups
do
not
represent
the
Palestinian
people
or
their
legitimate
aspirations
for
freedom.
They
are
terrorist
organizations,
and
I
am
determined
to
put
an
end
to
their
activities.
The
Palestinian
vision
of
peace
is
an
independent
and
viable
Palestinian
state
on
the
territories
occupied
by
Israel
in
1967,
living
as
an
equal
neighbor
alongside
Israel
with
peace
and
security
for
both
the
Israeli
and
Palestinian
peoples.
In
1988,
the
Palestine
National
Council
adopted
a
historic
resolution
calling
for
the
implementation
of
applicable
United
Nations
resolutions,
particularly,
Resolutions
242
and
338.
The
Palestinians
recognized
Israel's
right
to
exist
on
78
percent
of
historical
Palestine
with
the
understanding
that
we
would
be
allowed
to
live
in
freedom
on
the
remaining
22
percent,
which
has
been
under
Israeli
occupation
since
1967.
Our
commitment
to
that
two-state
solution
remains
unchanged,
but
unfortunately,
also
remains
unreciprocated.
We
seek
true
independence
and
full
sovereignty:
the
right
to
control
our
own
airspace,
water
resources
and
borders;
to
develop
our
own
economy,
to
have
normal
commercial
relations
with
our
neighbors,
and
to
travel
freely.
In
short,
we
seek
only
what
the
free
world
now
enjoys
and
only
what
Israel
insists
on
for
itself:
the
right
to
control
our
own
destiny
and
to
take
our
place
among
free
nations.
In
addition,
we
seek
a
fair
and
just
solution
to
the
plight
of
Palestinian
refugees
who
for
54
years
have
not
been
permitted
to
return
to
their
homes.
We
understand
Israel's
demographic
concerns
and
understand
that
the
right
of
return
of
Palestinian
refugees,
a
right
guaranteed
under
international
law
and
United
Nations
Resolution
194,
must
be
implemented
in
a
way
that
takes
into
account
such
concerns.
However,
just
as
we
Palestinians
must
be
realistic
with
respect
to
Israel's
demographic
desires,
Israelis
too
must
be
realistic
in
understanding
that
there
can
be
no
solution
to
the
Israeli-Palestinian
conflict
if
the
legitimate
rights
of
these
innocent
civilians
continue
to
be
ignored.
Left
unresolved,
the
refugee
issue
has
the
potential
to
undermine
any
permanent
peace
agreement
between
Palestinians
and
Israelis.
How
is
a
Palestinian
refugee
to
understand
that
his
or
her
right
of
return
will
not
be
honored
but
those
of
Kosovar
Albanians,
Afghans
and
East
Timorese
have
been?
There
are
those
who
claim
that
I
am
not
a
partner
in
peace.
In
response,
I
say
Israel's
peace
partner
is,
and
always
has
been,
the
Palestinian
people.
Peace
is
not
a
signed
agreement
between
individuals
—
it
is
reconciliation
between
peoples.
Two
peoples
cannot
reconcile
when
one
demands
control
over
the
other,
when
one
refuses
to
treat
the
other
as
a
partner
in
peace,
when
one
uses
the
logic
of
power
rather
than
the
power
of
logic.
Israel
has
yet
to
understand
that
it
cannot
have
peace
while
denying
justice.
As
long
as
the
occupation
of
Palestinian
lands
continues,
as
long
as
Palestinians
are
denied
freedom,
then
the
path
to
the
"peace
of
the
brave"
that
I
embarked
upon
with
my
late
partner
Yitzhak
Rabin,
will
be
littered
with
obstacles.
The
Palestinian
people
have
been
denied
their
freedom
for
far
too
long
and
are
the
only
people
in
the
world
still
living
under
foreign
occupation.
How
is
it
possible
that
the
entire
world
can
tolerate
this
oppression,
discrimination
and
humiliation?
The
1993
Oslo
Accord,
signed
on
the
White
House
lawn,
promised
the
Palestinians
freedom
by
May
1999.
Instead,
since
1993,
the
Palestinian
people
have
endured
a
doubling
of
Israeli
settlers,
expansion
of
illegal
Israeli
settlements
on
Palestinian
land
and
increased
restrictions
on
freedom
of
movement.
How
do
I
convince
my
people
that
Israel
is
serious
about
peace
while
over
the
past
decade
Israel
intensified
the
colonization
of
Palestinian
land
from
which
it
was
ostensibly
negotiating
a
withdrawal?
But
no
degree
of
oppression
and
no
level
of
desperation
can
ever
justify
the
killing
of
innocent
civilians.
I
condemn
terrorism.
I
condemn
the
killing
of
innocent
civilians,
whether
they
are
Israeli,
American
or
Palestinian;
whether
they
are
killed
by
Palestinian
extremists,
Israeli
settlers,
or
by
the
Israeli
government.
But
condemnations
do
not
stop
terrorism.
To
stop
terrorism,
we
must
understand
that
terrorism
is
simply
the
symptom,
not
the
disease.
The
personal
attacks
on
me
currently
in
vogue
may
be
highly
effective
in
giving
Israelis
an
excuse
to
ignore
their
own
role
in
creating
the
current
situation.
But
these
attacks
do
little
to
move
the
peace
process
forward
and,
in
fact,
are
not
designed
to.
Many
believe
that
Ariel
Sharon,
Israel's
prime
minister,
given
his
opposition
to
every
peace
treaty
Israel
has
ever
signed,
is
fanning
the
flames
of
unrest
in
an
effort
to
delay
indefinitely
a
return
to
negotiations.
Regrettably,
he
has
done
little
to
prove
them
wrong.
Israeli
government
practices
of
settlement
construction,
home
demolitions,
political
assassinations,
closures
and
shameful
silence
in
the
face
of
Israeli
settler
violence
and
other
daily
humiliations
are
clearly
not
aimed
at
calming
the
situation.
The
Palestinians
have
a
vision
of
peace:
it
is
a
peace
based
on
the
complete
end
of
the
occupation
and
a
return
to
Israel's
1967
borders,
the
sharing
of
all
Jerusalem
as
one
open
city
and
as
the
capital
of
two
states,
Palestine
and
Israel.
It
is
a
warm
peace
between
two
equals
enjoying
mutually
beneficial
economic
and
social
cooperation.
Despite
the
brutal
repression
of
Palestinians
over
the
last
four
decades,
I
believe
when
Israel
sees
Palestinians
as
equals,
and
not
as
a
subjugated
people
upon
whom
it
can
impose
its
will,
such
a
vision
can
come
true.
Indeed
it
must.
Palestinians
are
ready
to
end
the
conflict.
We
are
ready
to
sit
down
now
with
any
Israeli
leader,
regardless
of
his
history,
to
negotiate
freedom
for
the
Palestinians,
a
complete
end
of
the
occupation,
security
for
Israel
and
creative
solutions
to
the
plight
of
the
refugees
while
respecting
Israel's
demographic
concerns.
But
we
will
only
sit
down
as
equals,
not
as
supplicants;
as
partners,
not
as
subjects;
as
seekers
of
a
just
and
peaceful
solution,
not
as
a
defeated
nation
grateful
for
whatever
scraps
are
thrown
our
way.
For
despite
Israel's
overwhelming
military
advantage,
we
possess
something
even
greater:
the
power
of
justice.
Yasir
Arafat
was
elected
president
of
the
Palestinian
Authority
in
1996
and
is
also
chairman
of
the
Palestine
Liberation
Organization
(from
the
New
York
Times).
Questions:
·
Is
Arafat’s
vision
a
positive
one?
·
Do
you
agree
with
his
plan
for
peace?
·
Do
you
believe
that
Arafat
could
be
a
partner
for
peace?
Yasser
Arafat
and
his
men
are
running
both
wars
simultaneously,
pretending
they
are
one.
The
suicide
killers
evidently
make
no
distinction.
Much
of
the
worldwide
bafflement
about
the
Middle
East,
much
of
the
confusion
among
the
Israelis
themselves,
stem
from
the
overlap
between
these
two
wars.
Decent
peace
seekers,
in
Israel
and
elsewhere,
are
often
drawn
into
simplistic
positions.
They
either
defend
Israel's
continued
occupation
of
the
West
Bank
and
Gaza
by
claiming
that
Israel
has
been
targeted
by
Muslim
holy
war
ever
since
its
foundation
in
1948,
or
else
they
vilify
Israel
on
the
grounds
that
nothing
but
the
occupation
prevents
a
just
and
lasting
peace.
One
simplistic
argument
allows
Palestinians
to
kill
all
Israelis
on
the
basis
of
their
natural
right
to
resist
occupation.
An
equally
simplistic
counter-argument
allows
Israelis
to
oppress
all
Palestinians
because
an
all-out
Islamic
jihad
has
been
launched
against
them.
Two
wars
are
being
fought
in
this
region.
One
is
a
just
war,
and
the
other
is
both
unjust
and
futile.
Israel
must
step
down
from
the
war
on
the
Palestinian
territories.
It
must
begin
to
end
occupation
and
evacuate
the
Jewish
settlements
that
were
deliberately
thrust
into
the
depth
of
Palestinian
lands.
Its
borders
must
be
drawn,
unilaterally
if
need
be,
upon
the
logic
of
demography
and
the
moral
imperative
to
withdraw
from
governing
a
hostile
population.
But
would
an
end
to
occupation
terminate
the
Muslim
holy
war
against
Israel?
This
is
hard
to
predict.
If
jihad
comes
to
an
end,
both
sides
would
be
able
to
sit
down
and
negotiate
peace.
If
it
does
not,
we
would
have
to
seal
and
fortify
Israel's
logical
border,
the
demographic
border,
and
keep
fighting
for
our
lives
against
fanatical
Islam.
If,
despite
simplistic
visions,
the
end
of
occupation
will
not
result
in
peace,
at
least
we
will
have
one
war
to
fight
rather
than
two.
Not
a
war
for
our
full
occupancy
of
the
Holy
Land,
but
a
war
for
our
right
to
live
in
a
free
and
sovereign
Jewish
state
in
part
of
that
land.
A
just
war,
a
no-alternative
war.
A
war
we
will
win.
Like
any
people
who
were
ever
forced
to
fight
for
their
very
homes
and
freedom
and
lives.
Amos
Oz
is
one
of
Israel's
leading
novelists
and
a
founder
of
the
Peace
Now
movement.
The
article
was
taken
from
the
April
7,
2002
issue
of
the
Observer.
Questions:
·
Which
of
the
two
wars
that
Amos
Oz
describes
is
more
important
for
Israel
to
be
fighting?
·
Is
Oz
right
in
that
it’s
Israel
should
be
fighting
one
war
and
not
the
other?
Goal:
Give
Chevrei
Tnua
more
hard
facts
on
the
crises.
Encourage
debate.
Age:
Older
chaverim.
Probably
most
suited
for
madrichim.
Materials:
Posters
with
the
statements,
literature,
facts,
stats,
etc.
Trigger:
The
room
will
be
divided
by
two
statements:
·
Popular
Palestinian
Frustration
at
the
shortcomings
of
the
Oslo
accords
led
to
the
failure
of
Camp
David
and
the
current
uprising.
·
Barak
made
the
most
generous
offer
ever
presented
to
the
Palestinians.
The
Palestinian
Authority
rejected
that
offer,
abandoned
negotiations
and
again
resorted
to
violence.
Under
each
statement
will
be
a
mish-mash
of
related
facts,
articles,
statistics,
etc.
Chaverim
should
read
as
many
of
these
as
possible.
Madrichim
should
circulate
to
ensure
that
chaverim
are
viewing
as
many
things
as
possible.
30
–
40
minutes.
Method:
In
groups
of
three
the
chaverim
must
decide
where
their
beliefs
fall
between
the
two
statements.
Each
group
must
come
to
a
consensus
or
unanimous
decision
before
finding
their
place
in
the
spectrum.
Madrichim
should
only
intervene
in
discussions
if
they
aren’t
productive
otherwise
we
should
leave
chaverim
to
their
devices.
40
minutes.
Sikkum:
A
sampling
of
groups
should
present
their
findings.
15
minutes.
By
Chevera
Tnua
Jamie
Beran
Bus
823
was
bombed
again
today,
for
the
third
time
this
year.
Bus
823
that
runs
from
Tel
Aviv
to
Nazareth.
The
same
bus
823
that
we
took
to
visit
each
other
during
the
whole
last
month
of
our
relationship
in
your
country.
And
I
say
your
country,
because
I
seem
to
be
breaking
up
with
your
country
more
effectively
than
I’ve
broken
up
with
you.
I
usually
assume
that
you
are
fine,
but
today
my
heart
skipped
a
beat
or
two
when
I
really
allowed
myself
to
hear
the
familiar
echo
“four
soldiers
were
killed
today
in
Israel,”
and
I
thought…what
if?
I
still
don’t
even
know
if
I
would
get
a
phone
call.
What
Israeli
parent
would
remember
their
son’s
insignificant
American
fling
at
a
time
like
this?
A
time
in
which
your
country
is
at
war
with
a
faceless
enemy.
A
face
covered
by
a
Kaffyeah.
Any
perusal
of
the
local
paper
reveals
the
discrepancy.
A
tiny,
pulled
out
picture
of
the
bowed
heads
of
small
Palestinian
girls,
obscured
by
a
zoomed
in
photograph
of
sad
faced,
large
Israeli
women
that
takes
up
half
the
front
page.
And
all
of
the
consciousness.
And
you
are
a
soldier
of
that
war
and
you
are
fighting
for
your
country.
Your
freedom.
The
justification
of
your
existence
–
as
an
Israeli,
a
solider,
a
man,
a
Jew.
Because
the
admittance
that
it
might
not
be
a
fight
for
freedom,
but
a
fight
for
power.
A
fight
to
prove
that
you
are
on
the
right
side,
the
winning
side,
is
just
a
little
too
real
for
Zionist
rhetoric.
Israel
always
wins,
right?
Of
course
she
does…because
you
are
strong,
righteous,
and
backed
by
the
only
country
that
manages
to
put
a
more
frightening
spin
on
justice
than
your
own.
You
see,
you
are
only
part
of
this
wheel
of
violence.
My
country
is
doing
the
spinning.
And
so
I
am
as
much
of
a
pawn
as
you
are.
And
I’m
sorry.
I’m
sorry
you
live
in
more
fear
than
I
do.
I’m
sorry
you
don’t
have
the
luxury
to
have
the
identity
crisis
I’m
having.
I’m
sorry
you
won’t
be
around
to
celebrate
my
20th
birthday.
You
flipped
the
switch
on
the
light
the
moment
I
turned
19,
seven
hours
earlier
last
year.
You
sang
me
happy
birthday
and
we
went
for
a
walk
and
looked
for
a
patch
of
green
in
that
dirty,
paved
city
we
lived
in.
A
patch
of
green.
Many
parts
of
your
country
have
beautiful
green
patches.
That
part
only
had
a
park
full
of
screaming
children.
Children
today,
soldiers
tomorrow.
It’s
funny
that
I
was
too
occupied
with
our
relationship
to
ask
these
questions
then.
Or
maybe
I
was
too
occupied
with
the
rhetoric
of
my
life
to
understand
them.
O
C
C
U
P
A
T
I
O
N
It’s
a
funny
word.
To
Occupy
is
to
take
up
time.
To
prevent
from
doing
something.
Bad
definitions?
Maybe
I
should
look
it
up
in
the
dictionary.
In
English?
Hebrew?
Arabic?
So
your
government
is
continuing
to
push
an
illegal
occupation
while
my
government
occupies
itself
by
starting
wars
all
over
the
place.
Making
new
axes
of
evil.
And
spinning
them.
They
make
a
great
team,
those
guys.
And
while
they
spin
our
world
farther
and
farther
out
of
control,
the
thing
I
tend
to
cry
about
most
is
that
I
can’t
see
you
right
now.
And
I
really
want
to
see
you.
Not
for
the
sake
of
continuing
our
homeless
relationship
–
I
gave
that
up
a
while
ago.
But
because
I’m
starting
to
feel
like
you
aren’t
real
anymore.
Like
I
made
you
up.
As
if
you
weren’t
sitting
next
to
me
on
this
bed
in
a
jet
lagged
daze
8
months
ago.
Remember
when
you
came
to
my
country?
That
was
fun,
huh?
So
I
can’t
just
get
on
an
airplane.
Not
only
because
I
can’t
afford
it.
Not
only
for
lack
of
time.
Not
only
because
it’s
too
dangerous
to
put
my
parents
through
allowing
me
to
go.
But
because
I
don’t
even
know
how
I
feel
about
your
country
anymore,
let
alone
the
option
of
my
privileged
presence
there.
Harsh
statement,
huh?
Harsh
times.
I
just
can’t
help
but
wonder
if
there
are
Palestinians
who
love
each
other
as
much
as
I
love
you,
who
don’t
need
an
airplane,
or
time,
or
money,
but
just
to
get
to
the
other
side
of
the
checkpoint.
The
other
side
of
your
army.
I
don’t
really
need
to
wonder.
They
are
there,
in
spite
of
the
media’s
tiny
oversight
of
their
existence.
And
yes,
perhaps
one
of
those
same
Palestinians
blew
himself
up
on
Bus
823
this
morning.
But
bus
823
is
a
symptom,
not
a
cause.
Besides,
most
of
the
men
and
women
of
Palestine
were
not
on
bus
823.
They
were
waiting
at
a
checkpoint.
I
keep
talking
about
our
countries.
They
don’t
even
have
a
country.
They
don’t
even
have
a
face.
Just
a
lot
of
Band-Aids.
And
dirty
water.
Bus
823…
I
rode
for
3
hours
on
bus
823
one
Monday
morning
after
long-weekend
visit.
I
remember
looking
out
the
window
and
feeling
quite
grown
up
in
the
new
found
independence
that
comes
with
traveling
alone
in
a
foreign
country.
Your
country
forces
me
to
grow
up
all
the
time.
Because
that
morning,
bus
823
allowed
me
to
sit
in
contemplation
of
our
tiny
universe
without
a
thought
to
the
world
around
me.
This
morning,
someone’s
thoughts
were
interrupted.
And
as
I
scrolled
down
the
names
on
Ha’aretz
and
sighed
with
relief
when
yours,
once
again,
wasn’t
one
of
them,
I
wondered
who
else
read
those
names
and
wept.
The
women
in
the
big
picture?
The
mother
of
the
Palestinian
man?
Some
other
girl
in
some
other
country
who’s
Zionist
youth
movement
sent
her
to
Israel
for
a
year
of
self-discovery
without
warning
her
about
the
repercussions?
You
don’t
learn
about
geo-politics
until
you
get
to
college.
And
so
I’ll
turn
20
this
week
and
finish
out
my
first
spring
break
in
a
life
so
vastly
different
from
yours.
I
don’t
think
Israeli
soldiers
get
to
go
on
road
trips
for
spring
break.
Besides,
Ohio
is
farther
from
Baltimore
than
the
whole
span
of
Israel.
You’d
probably
end
up
in
Palestine
if
you
tried
to
drive
that
far.
Actually,
last
I
checked
its
right
up
the
street.
Be
careful.
You
shouldn’t
go
there
these
days.
That’s
one
country
that
happens
to
be
even
more
dangerous
than
yours.
Yes.
More
dangerous.
Smaller
picture.
Bigger
guns.
But
what
am
I
talking
about?
Palestine
isn’t
even
a
country.
Or
perhaps
I
already
mentioned
that.
I
hope
you
have
a
good
day
today.
I’m
sorry
my
phone
call
woke
you
up.
I’m
sorry
I
can’t
yet
tell
you
very
much
of
this.
It
just
seems
like
a
better
conversation
to
have
face
to
face.
I
hope
the
grass
is
green
and
the
sky
is
blue
in
Israel
today,
and
that
this
morning
greets
you
with
peace
in
your
soul
even
if
there
isn’t
peace
on
your
land.
I
hope
it
was
nice
to
wake
up
to
the
sound
of
my
voice.
I
hope
you
get
on
the
right
bus.
By
Chevera
Tnua
Ruth
Stevens
When
you
hear
the
word
Intifadah,
what
do
you
hear?
Oh,
the
Middle
East,
that
complicated
nonsense.
In-ti-fa-da.
To
me
the
four
hard
syllables,
one
after
another,
always
sound
a
little
like
the
gunfire
I
heard
one
Jerusalem
night.
Gilo,
a
Jewish
neighborhood
within
Jerusalem,
and
Beit-Jala,
an
Arab
village
directly
across
the
Green
Line,
were
exchanging
fire.
Gilo
and
Jala
are
really
cognates,
Hebrew
and
Arabic
names
for
the
same
place.
Now
that
place
was
shooting
itself
apart.
What
divides
Gilo
and
Beit-Jala,
I
wondered
that
night,
confused.
Language.
Religion.
Culture.
Standard
of
living.
An
imaginary
line
some
generals
drew.
But
what
really?
Nothing.
Nothing!
Bullets.
Explosions.
In-ti-fa-da.
I
was
in
Tel
Aviv
one
weekend,
to
visit
friends
and
take
SAT
IIs.
Friday
night
found
me
relaxed,
strolling
down
the
boardwalk.
In-ti-fa-da.
One
thirty
in
the
morning,
my
cell
phone
wakes
me.
An
urgent,
worried
voice:
“Are
you
OK?”
Yes,
I’m
OK.
Back
to
sleep.
Bullets.
Explosions.
Rocks
–
I
woke
up,
everything
registered.
There
had
been
a
bombing
at
11:30
last
night
at
a
club
on
the
TA
beach.
We
caught
the
next
bus
in.
That
was
dumb,
maybe
-
but
I
had
to
see.
The
site
of
the
bombing
was
not
far
from
where
we
had
been
the
night
before.
The
club
itself
was
fenced
off,
but
the
pavement,
and
the
flowers
people
had
brought,
were
visible.
So
were
the
bloodstains.
A
makeshift
memorial:
flowers,
pictures,
and
candles.
Crying
relatives.
My
heart
broke.
Across
the
street
from
this
grieving,
though,
was
another
world.
The
bombed
nightclub
faced
an
old
mosque,
Hassan
Bek,
which
was
now
surrounded
by
Jews
chanting
for
war,
for
death.
Inside
sat
Arabs,
defiant,
aloof.
We
walked
over
but
as
I
reached
the
middle
of
the
road
one
person
threw
a
rock
and
–
Hassan
Bek
marked
the
traditional
border
between
rich,
ultramodern
Tel
Aviv,
and
poor,
cramped
ancient
Jaffa.
Again,
lines,
meaningless
walls
erected
between
rich
and
poor,
or
Jews
and
Arabs,
or
so
many
other
distinctions
drawn
around
the
world.
Time
and
time
again
I
find
myself
privileged.
Well-off.
American.
On
the
side
with
the
advantages.
Israel
taught
me
that
I
have
to
use
those
advantages;
in
every
way
I
can,
to
help.
I’ve
heard,
seen,
smelt
violence:
committed
both
to
kill
fun-loving
teenagers,
and
to
avenge
their
names.
Names
that
could
have
been
my
own.
The
little
I
know
about
bullets
and
bombs
and
broken
glass
is
too
much.
The
Intifadah,
and
so
many
conflicts
like
it
around
the
globe,
are
a
reminder
of
what
these
walls
accomplish.
I
want
to
help
bring
them
down
-
so
that
one
day
people
in
Beit-Jala
and
Gilo
will
hear
nothing
but
the
sweet,
peaceful
silence
of
Jerusalem
night.