It is a tough little place. This Israel. Unbound by rules, unshackled fromdiplomatic custom, this sliver of a country blazes its own unique trail. Almostunplugged from the world, operating on its own grid but exhausting the wonder wemay feel about it as it goes along. It can test you hard and strain your beliefseven harder.
The past six months in Jerusalem have been an eye-opener and, gentle reader,living here isn’t easy. The backdrop is always how to wage war and escapepeace. And whose religion is being insulted and how. This column will give youimpressions both personal and political as your correspondent navigates the HolyLand, trying to understand the dynamics of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict orwhy priests from six different Christian denominations fight bitterly over spacein a single church. Or why you can’t buy bread for eight days during Passover.
I begin with great trepidation because I now live in the world’s mostcontested and disputed city where every brick means a thousand-year claim andevery corner hides a Biblical truth. Heavy doesn’t even begin to describe thefeel of Jerusalem with those armies of faithful walking about briskly, socertain, so complete in their worldview. Doubt has little place here. But I haveso many, it makes my head hurt.
I am constantly fascinated, impressed, angry, appalled and confused as I watchand learn the truths and untruths, the mythologies and mysteries of thishistoric city. The cradle of the world’s three major competing religions isnot easy to rock. There is too much baggage and far too many memories.Archaeologists are used as political weapons to bolster shaky evidence and newdiscoveries often lead to new demolitions -- of Palestinian homes. The slowannexation of Jerusalem goes on casually and dreams of the holy city being ashared capital one day for Israel and Palestine grow more distant. BraveIsraelis speak out continuously on the pages of a few newspapers but theirvoices are lost in the busy grunt of bulldozers.
You can only sigh after you are done being angry. Watch the swaggering andheavily armed Israeli soldiers as they stroll the compound of the Dome of theRock from where Prophet Mohammed is believed to have ascended to heaven and thenearby Al-Aqsa mosque where he came during the Isra or night journey on thespirit horse. The mosque is the third holiest site in Islam.
But the Jews call the same area the Temple Mount where God supposedly laid thefoundation stone of the world and Abraham prepared his son Issac for sacrifice.They also see it as their holiest site – the place where the first two templeswere built but destroyed by the Babylonians and the Romans in 586 BC and 70 AD.Today the Jews pray at the surviving Western Wall, which has become the mostsacred spot in their national and religious consciousness.
But the Western Wall is a very short prayer away from Al-Aqsa and this causeseternal trouble. Even though the two sites are separated and guarded, militantJews occasionally sneak in groups led by rabbis into the Al-Aqsa compound to tryto hold prayers. It happened just last month, provoking a call by Palestiniansto gather in greater numbers to defend the site.
The compulsion to claim sites and stones grips not only the utterly religiousbut also the utterly political. In 2000 Ariel Sharon, then chairman of therightwing Likud Party, entered the Al-Aqsa compound "in peace" with athousand armed police. The hugely provocative intrusion, which many say sparkedthe second intefada, was approved by the then prime minister, Ehud Barak, of theLabour Party. Sharon was throwing a political dare and asserting Israelisovereignty over the Temple Mount with the full compliance of the ruling party.
Today, the Muslim faithful watch helplessly as Israeli soldiers show their heavymetal and sometimes even enter the mosque with shoes on. All the custodians ofthe sprawling mosque can do is point to the glass cabinet filled with shell andbullet casings allegedly fired at Palestinian protesters by their mortal enemy.Meanwhile, various Arab countries have to be content with filling the mosquewith donations to mark their presence. But competition is fierce when it comesto registering your name in the logbook of eternal faith. The new plush redcarpets of Al-Aqsa came from Jordan’s King Abdullah II who also wants to add afifth minaret to the building. The carpets in the Dome of the Rock havetraditionally come from the kings of Morocco.
In 1990 when cracks were discovered in the massive Dome, whose golden presencedominates the city landscape, the Saudis immediately offered a million dollarsfor repairs. But Jordan’s King Hussein was offended because he saw himself asthe sole protector of Muslim holy sites in Jerusalem. The Saudis, not contentbeing custodians of Mecca and Medina, were attempting to trespass his holysphere. Although no match for the Saudi wealth, King Hussein immediately pledgeda larger sum without checking with the royal treasury. His coffers were emptyand he reportedly sold an estate he owned in Britain to finance the repairs.
The burden of religion is leavened somewhat by a falafel sandwich and thefamiliar presence of Indian and Chinese junk in the narrow lanes of the oldcity. And sometimes by a jolly taxi driver who thinks Mithun Chakravarty was thelast word in dance or by an eager Arab who wants to be your "fixer" formeetings with Palestinian leaders.