Pilgrim to the Middle East tries to understand religious violence

BY DENNIS STERN

I know it all now, after one trip to the Middle East. WRONG. My trip to Jerusalem for two weeks in December convinced me how little I know about the conflict—how little we know about the people of the Middle East and their histories. I stayed in the Muslim Quarter of Jerusalem, so now some of my best friends are Muslims. WRONG. “Some of my best friends” has always been an expression that puts down people different from us. Like many Americans, we don’t know much about Muslims’ strict and deeply devotional faith, and we are afraid of it. In fact staying in that Muslim part of the Old City—which has many Christian sites—was a shock. Muslim prayers were chanted and blasted from 60-foot towers at 4:45 a.m. and four other times each day. Unfamiliar dress, customs and language emphasized the differences even more.

Perhaps, like a caller to the Joe Soucheray radio show said two months ago, we should advocate for complete annihilation of those who are against us. The caller was referring to Iraq, and he said, “We didn’t do enough in Iraq. We should have gone in there and nuked the whole 25 million people, and started over with a new population.” This kind of statement scares me. Our misguided leaders and some citizens think we can succeed by eliminating those we perceive to be “bad guys” or part of the “Axis of Evil.”

Fauzi, a Sunni Muslim car driver we had in Jerusalem (Sunnis are predominant in that city), expertly took us to Nazareth, Galilee and all the other northern Christian sites. Along the way he shared with us his faith: “God is love.” “God is in you—not far away.” “God gives exams.” “Honor and love your parents is one of the strongest Muslim commandments.” He didn’t just talk a good game, but was also kind and considerate to us.

A Palestinian leader, Magi, at the Temple Mount with its golden dome, gave12 Catholic priests and nuns staying at the nearby Ecce Homo Convent Guesthouse and me a tour of the grounds of this third holiest site for Muslims. Sister Rosalie, director of a scripture school at Ecce Homo, is a good friend of Magi’s, and they trust each other. These Sisters of Sion support many Arab causes, including feeding the poor and supporting the only Palestinian University in Israel—Bethlehem U. The Sisters believe that education and good future Palestinian leaders go hand in hand, and they raise funds from around the world for the school. After the tour, Sister Rosalie greeted another old friend of hers on the street, an elfish and gray-bearded sufi, a Muslim mystic holy man. Sufis deeply believe in respecting other faiths and fellowship between peoples. The respect between the nuns at Ecce Homo and their Muslim Palestinian neighbors is obvious.

Who is “good” and who is “bad”?
But why are we surprised by “good” Muslims? We focus on the radical Muslims who crashed the Twin Towers, the Sunnis and Shia who are killing each other in Iraq and the violence generated by Islam hundreds of years ago as cited by a Byzantine emperor. Since religious war is not foreign to Christians either (history has seen Europe’s violent Catholics-versus-Protestants wars such as the Thirty Years War, 1618 to 1648; France’s 22-year Catholic-versus-Huguenot war; and Ireland’s continued conflicts since the 1600s), and we know there are good Christians, doesn’t it stand to reason there are good Muslims as well?

How can religious differences have such power over people’s lives? The role of religious and cultural differences in the evolution of violence is something I am trying to understand. One of my thoughts about the Taliban’s comeback in Afghanistan is that the U.S. after taking over, allowed pornography on satellite TV. The conservative and moral Muslims there were disgusted (horrified might be a better word) by the bad influence of infidels, even though the Taliban means repression, torture and murder.

Another well-known lack of cultural sensitivity that caused problems was demonstrated by President Bush after 9-11 when he spoke of launching “a crusade” in the Middle East. It inflamed memories of Europe’s attempt, in the 11th century, to regain the Holy Land, then occupied by Muslims.

According to essayist Thomas Cahill, St. Francis of Assisi in those years had convinced an Egyptian sultan, Al-Malik al-Kamil, nephew of the great Saladin, to seek peace with the Christians. This occurred after the Muslims defeated the hapless Third Crusade. Francis went back to the Crusader camp on the Egyptian shore and desperately tried to persuade Cardinal Pelagius Galvani, put in charge of the war by the pope, to agree to end hostilities.

But the cardinal had dreams of military glory, and insisted on more attacks. His eventual failure, amid terrible loss of life, brought the age of the Crusades to its inglorious end, according to author Cahill. Both sides were guilty of violent revenge. The Christian soldiers in an earlier Crusade proved to be “equal opportunity” killers, as they also disposed of 50,000 Jews as they crossed the Holy Land on their way to Jerusalem. The history of Saladin and the Crusades is taught to every Muslim school child, and this culture of violence from Christians is ingrained in the psyches of generations of young people— which is magnified by our presence in the region.

Fauzi, the Sunni Muslim driver I referred to earlier, and his brother Tarrik both liked Saddam Hussein. They told me they thought Saddam was a good leader, and would survive in Iraq and come back to lead his people. Sunnis all over the world—not just in Iraq—supported Saddam. Our country gave no credence to feelings like this before we entered the country. Those feelings have an ancient basis, and should have been weighed—not dismissed before we attacked. Saddam was a vicious tyrant, but the complexities of the Middle East situation distort that truth in the minds of many good people. That fact has been ignored.

Hopes for Peace in Israel
Today there are outside groups trying to make peace in Israel. A representative of the Jerusalem Peace Academy was at the guest house where I stayed. He was a German Jew and advocated three steps to peace: 1. Israel’s withdrawing from Palestinian territories 2. Stopping harassment. 3. Giving human rights to Palestinians. I also met a representative of 25 workers from the World Council of Churches who were on a peace mission, and four New York City volunteers for the Freedom Theatre in Jenin, Israel. See www.freedomtheatre.org for their impressive strategy to restore dignity and self-respect for Palestinian youth. Rabbis for Human Rights is the rabbinic voice for the Jewish tradition of human rights. They have fought against the Israeli Army’s practice of Palestinian home demolition. Zvi, an Israel professor from the University of Indiana whom I met, says establishing common areas is the answer to peace. Divided cities and countries don’t work, he says.

I was impressed by Palestinians’ deep desire for peace. Since the September 28, 2001 Intifada, Palestinians have suffered greatly. Unemployment is at 70 percent. Their young people have turned to crime and drugs. Tourism has been terrible, but even worse since fighting broke out between Israel and Lebanon in July. Nedal, a Christian Palestinian who guided us through the Church of the Nativity, said, “Before the Intifada, 5,000 pilgrims came every day and waited in hour-long lines to visit and touch the Bethlehem Star. Now it’s less than 5 percent of that.”

Nedal confided, “We would like Americans to know that we care for peace. We are awaiting it. We don’t want just words put down on paper. We want to communicate peace, receive peace and learn how to insure peace.”

Palestinians endure many humiliations. Most trying to get to Jerusalem to work in the morning are forced to go through a maze of checkpoints lasting up to three hours. Sometimes they are turned back home as Israeli soldiers tell them they are too late. A Palestinian taxi driver told us he has two college degrees, but has to drive taxi as all the good jobs are taken by Jews. His father has been a civil servant for the city for 39 years, but cannot even get a passport. He told us he did not care about those injustices. All he wants is peace. The evening before, I witnessed a young militant Jewish group that was allowed to put on a singing and dancing demonstration right in the middle of a Muslim street market, temporarily preventing business, while Israeli soldiers stood by with guns if anyone protested. Desperate Palestinian shopkeepers are unrelenting in their efforts to market their goods to tourists on the streets of Jerusalem and almost beg for sales.

All these seemingly unfair measures by the government have the benefit of producing a safe Israel. The control by the Israeli military is total. Security is thorough. Underneath that steely control lies a seething but patient Palestinian people who believe with all their hearts that someday all of Israel will be theirs again.

My Irish friend and I attended a reformed Jewish synagogue on our last night in Jerusalem. It is called Kol Haneshama, and it was filled with people’s joyous prayers, singing and love. The experience didn’t seem to fit in a country with an “unsolvable” problem. With so many wonderful Jews and Muslims in this country of Israel, and so many good people in America, why do so many of us wear blinders, think we know it all, refuse to try to learn—or not even encourage discussion and negotiation in the conflict?