Week Two Readings

I have to say, much of the Ruben and Khalidi articles were so laden with dates and names that I had trouble actually soaking in the thousands of years condensed into a few pages. What I initially tried to focus on, in reading these texts, was the intent and the extent of the authors to step outside their own predispositions and to offer disclaimers on their potential fallacies. In this respect, I think Khalidi made a more noticeable attempt to present her side of the history humbly.

In her opening paragraphs she states, "In nearly every case, what these sources tell us about Jerusalem is based on accounts compiled centuries after the events and should, therefore, be suspect, even if some do contain more than a kernel of fact." She goes on to discuss the ability of religion to cloud judgment. "And whether a tradition is "true" or not, when held strongly enough, it can be the motive for potent behaviors that produce historically verifiable results." This admission is an important one, and one that Karen Armstrong explores in the opening of her book.

Near the end of her essay, Khalidi explains, "The loss of Jerusalem to the Crusaders was important to the way in which Arabs and Muslims regarded the holy city; it reminded them how intensely others coveted it and united them in striving to regain it." Though she is speaking to a particular time in the history of Jerusalem, I wonder if this facet, being reminded of "how intensely others covet..." pokes at the heart of the issue.

Mick Dumper's sweeping history, timeline included, was insightful to me because of its brief mention of third-party players in the conflict. So often I hear of Israel vs. Palestine, Jews vs. Muslims, Hebrew vs. Arabic, that I forget about the many other players affecting the region. Dumper touched on this, stating, "Following the creation of the state of Israel in 1948, both the Israeli government and the Palestinian Arabs sought Western support, and Western churches flourished as a result. Since 1967, largely in the context of the alliance between the US and Israel, American evangelical movements and the Mormon Church have been the main beneficiaries."

And then...

"The removal by the British of the Palestinian Muslim mayor and his temporary replacement by a Jewish deputy in 1938 gave political form to this transition and heralded the dramatic changes which were to occur later... After the next war... the intensification of the religious community competition became too much for the British, and they slipped ignominiously away as militias and armies piled into the arena."

My my, how opportunistic of America and our good friend Great Britain. So my question(s) are...

What effect do third parties have on the region?
What are their interests/agendas?
Have they historically exacerbated the conflict and then left the mess behind for the main players to continue making themselves?
Well, of course they have. But I'd like to hear more information and opinions from you all.

First Week Reaction

I was watching a documentary last quarter, in which a reporter for Al Jazeera joked that the conflict would be solved if only Israelis and Palestinians were forced to cross the border any time they wanted to buy cigarettes. I know, all these jokes are so simplified (hence their comedy), but I can't help but wonder, "If it were only that simple..."
Reading the introductory information on the Jerusalem Project for this class, and some of the jokes that were made behind the scenes, I often thought of this reporter's comment. At times, I felt as though the project and its coordinators were overcomplicating the task at hand, prying at closed wounds, begging to keep them bleeding. They were fighting over terms like "revivalism" versus "folklife," debating squares of "shared" or "divided" lawn space on the Mall. Their inability to resolve these smaller questions for the purpose of putting on a festival in a neutral territory begs the question: How will they ever solve the real issues? I also tend to agree that perhaps the Smithsonian Folklife Festival wasn't the right venue for this contested representation. After all, Mom, Dad, and the kids, touring Washington on the Fourth of July are probably not prepared to watch a debate broken out on Middle Eastern politics, all while eating their falaffel. The project would do better on a college campus, where twenty-somethings are prepared for such multitasking.
But if Jerusalem didn't work, why then did Ireland? Or India? I wonder if the representatives from these other countries to the festival cared so much about their image on the Mall, and were so meticulous with details. I also think the U.S. has put itself in such an implicated position with Israel, that its smaller-scale investment in the Jerusalem Project is rather telling. The project's failure, ultimately on account of the U.S. counterpart, says volumes about our supposed "neutrality." The complication of Jerusalem being represented in Washington was described well by Galit Hasan-Rokem in her article "Dialogue as Ethical Conduct: The Folk Festival That Was Not."
Hasan-Rokem says, "... the attempt to represent one (two?) capital(s), Jerusalem, at the heart of another, Washington, constitutes a complex case of mise en abyme [...] It may be of value to recall that both cities claim the role of centre of the world."

Introduction

I was taking the trash out yesterday when I realized something-- my life is a contradiction. I know, big revelation for the walk to the alley, but I was holding a large amount of empty bottles from the weekend, an empty Nordstrom shopping bag, a dead bouquet of lilies, and a Pizza Hut Box. Somewhat of an indication of the rest of my apartment, among other things.
You see there was a fire in our building about three months ago, the beginning of Winter Quarter. Long story short, there was arson involved, two completely scorched apartments, and a lot of smoke damage. No one was hurt. Following the fire, the plagues came, not exactly as they had in Egypt but similar enough, prompting everyone to move out of the building. Everyone, that is, except my roommate and I. Last night when the blackout hit High Street, though, we looked at each other in awe-- my roommate is the first-born in her family, while I, thankfully, am the youngest.
So here we are in this condemned building, stepping over bums to get inside, making the daily treks through smoke-stained halls, to get to our relatively untouched "nice Jewish" (as friends say) decorated apartment.
As I was reminded last night, contradiction is something I grew up with.
"We used to have a Chanuka bush in my house," my roommate remembered, "it was pretty much a Christmas tree with a star of David on top."
Although my family wasn't quite so obvious, we were kind of like the bush. My mom was raised by a Jewish mother and a Catholic father. My dad, on the other hand-- some form (says how religious we are) of protestant. They chose to raise my sisters and me agnostic, but in a largely reformed Jewish area in Columbus, the kind of place where "Jew" is more of a cultural thing, a status symbol, an indicator of good bagel shops and lawyers. Until High School, I thought religion was as simple as going to Hebrew School and having a huge Bat Mitzvah party; I had no idea that an ongoing war and disputed territory were part of this singing and dancing (and lavish gift-giving) tradition. When I started to actually listen at the seders, though, I realized the discussion went much deeper than my little world had revealed. I heard talk of Zionism and zealotry, but not having the basic groundwork to understand it all, I asked for more haroset and kept my mouth shut.
Now as a college Junior separated from my childhood bubble, I have built some groundwork and been slightly exposed to the other side of the Israeli-Palestinian debate. Interestingly, I find myself pulled toward Judaism, not in an immediate, finding religion, sort of way, but in a comforting one. Of course, I'm not sure if my cultural ties signify deeper religious ones as well; in this class, I'm looking to find out. Maybe, maybe not. Maybe it's just part of my bigger contradiction.

And then there were fifty...

I remember when blogging was simple, as in-- one person, one blog. Now all this accepting and inviting and locking is a little overwhelming to me. So the entries will come later. This is just to get her up and running.