Final Project

As our class has come to a close, I have put together a video for my final project about the Israel-Palestine conflict, Jerusalem, food, and my experience with these three topics. Enjoy!

Discussion Response: A Semester of Thoughts

As we reflected on the semester today in class, I enjoyed hearing the opinions of my fellow classmates on the topics we discussed, the speakers we videoconferenced with, and the pieces we read. As the second section of the class comes to an end with final project presentations beginning next week, it was nice to take the time to really consider what we have covered, and, for someone like me who came to this class with almost no previous knowledge of subject, learned.

Up until January, I had a very vague idea of Israel and the conflict, but did not realize the extent and depth of the issue. I had had several friends growing up that were either Israeli or had lived there for some time, and they were normal kids. I didn't think twice about it. It was a place with problems, but every place has problems. So what?

Now, I know what. I realize the conflict began not in 1967 or 1948, but that the land has been a place of contention for thousands of years. I realize the extent of the occupation and how it affects daily lives, but I also still remember that life goes on, as it always has.

In this spirit, I want to leave you with a video I found about Israeli and Palestinian views on Iran. For me, sums up what has been most important for me in this course and what I will take with me into my life: people are people. That is all.

Reading Response: FOOD

I love food. I really, really love food. I love reading about it, I love taking pictures of it, I love making it, I love sharing it, and I love eating it. I come from a family where food is everything: I've been helping aunts and uncles since I was five, I am well versed in the names of a wide variety of foods in several languages, and at reunions, the person you're looking for is always in the kitchen-- cooking, eating, or, most likely, both.

Israeli and Palestinian food, however, are not cuisines about which I was previously very well informed. I eat hummus practically everyday but that's about the limit of my knowledge, so I have been glued to the Jerusalem cookbook that Noura lent me over the weekend. Much of the food resonates with what I love best about any dish: fresh, simple ingredients with lots of fruits and vegetables. I have already spent many hours kneading, chopping, and simmering, and I am excited to share my final project in a few weeks.

As for this week's reading/watching assignments, much of the same rings true. Learning about food makes me happy (and itching to try it!), and the articles with their vibrant pictures inspired me all the more. One video link seems to have been taken down, but the one I did watch, "Beyond Falafel", frustrated me. While it did an excellent job celebrating the diversity of Jewish cuisine in Israel, discussion of the discrimination against both Mizrahi and Palestinians was entirely absent. To be fair, the video is about food, not racial stereotypes. Still, I felt as though it was inappropriate to mention these groups (although Palestinians were simply referred to as 'Arabs' without specifying) and give the impression that there is no tension with the Ashkenazic population. To use these conflicts as examples of the bridges that are being built from the love of food would have been a welcome addition.

Questions:
What food-- Israeli, Palestinian, or both-- would you like to try most?
Do you agree with me about the absence of mention about problems in Israel? What was your opinion of the video?

Discussion Response: Hearing What You Want To

Several weeks ago, the neutrality of new sources came up in class for the first time. We talked about how even the most benign media outlets operate under some agenda, but also how as individuals, we seek out that which we want to hear-- we look for information to confirm beliefs we already hold, and disregard opposing opinions as illegitimate. The agenda, then, is relative: if we as humans seek out biased sources already, it shouldn't much matter whether a source is "neutral". We will keep searching until we find one that is not.

I realize I am being a bit overdramatic, of course. Many people seek to find an opinion different or even opposite their own so they will be forced to reconsider what they assume is true. But when the idea of hearing what you want to came up again in class today, I found it particularly relevant to this week's theme: minority groups.

I, as an American, had always assumed that Israel was one, united, Zionist front of Jews. I had a vague idea that there were different levels of religiousness, but otherwise, it never occurred to me that there was any rift besides that between the Israeli community and the Palestinian one. Even when I learned more about the differences between Haredim and secular and Ashkenazim and Sephardim, to name a few groups, the internal conflict didn't really click-- because I didn't want to hear it.

It is so much easier to assume that the conflict between Israel and Palestine is the region's only issue. When we talked to Galit Hasan Rokem on Tuesday, I asked her whether or not she found some of the struggles in Israel-Palestine more important than others, with my gut reaction being that nothing usurped the bigger political disaster. I have been routinely horrified throughout the semester at the direct  effects of the occupation on the people involved-- so much so, I now realize, that I did not want to hear about anyone else's problems.

Regardless of my own opinions, ignoring people calling out for help will not do anyone any good. A solution will come only when everyone is listened to. The conflict in Israel-Palestine is now one of people who have grown up in this land. They are people who come from wildly different backgrounds and ideologies and schools of thought on the seemingly endless issues with racism, class warfare, religious discrimination, sexism-- but they all have one thing in common. They love their home. Selective hearing will not speed up the peace process because a peace without a people-- and these people have a multitude of concerns that must be considered-- is not a peace.

Reading Response: The Hierarchy of Importance

As I was perusing this week's reading assignments, something that has come up several times throughout the semester was brought to mind again. I consider myself an ardent feminist; to me, this means that all people should be treated as people, regardless of gender, race, socioeconomic factors... the list goes on. Obviously, then, I was excited about this week's topic. However, as I read on, I began to question: how does the number of women in the Knesset matter as conflict persists? With both Israelis and Palestinians tired of years of disagreement and warfare, how can anyone, Jewish, Muslim, or Christian, be concerned with any other matter?

This concept was extremely difficult for me to deal with: I put an extremely high importance on women's rights, but in the situation Israel-Palestine what I consider of the highest importance seemed to pale in comparison. While reading, I felt for the socio-economic and racial barrier between the poor and the rich, the Mizrahi and the Ashkenazi... but the separation barrier, the scarcity of building permits, and land grabs returned to mind. No one enjoys the conflict; everyone wants a solution to be found-- that much, at least, Israelis and Palestinians can agree on. But what about more minor issues? Class tensions among the Israelis? Gay rights throughout both populations? Is it even fair to call these essential topics of conversation "minor"? But at the same time, isn't it wrong to try to equate them to a conflict that has raged on ceaselessly for decades?

Now, I turn this internal ethics debate to you: is there any good way to address this moral dilemma? Is it possible to do so without offending anyone? Can there be a legitimate hierarchy of importance in something as touchy as the state of Israel-Palestine?

Journal: The Singing Revolution

When I was in the fourth grade, we were assigned to do a project about a significant musical era or event. As everyone else was vying over the 60's and the British Invasion, I decided to get off the beaten path and look for something new.

At the same time, my parents had recently befriended a woman named Aive, a native of Estonia. When she heard about my project, she immediately suggested the Singing Revolution, which had occurred in her country when it was a part of the Soviet Union. Estonia was the first state to secede from the USSR, and it did so with no bloodshed-- instead, the people simply sang.

When I read the prompt for this journal assignment, this old project came to mind, and I rechecked the facts to make sure I remembered it correctly. The revolution began at a festival, and for four years, hundreds of thousands of Estonians gathered to sing illegal national songs. In 1991, they declared their independence, and while the shift of power was not necessarily smooth (it never is), no one was ever hurt.

Both in the fourth grade and today, the power of song and music over something as massive as peaceful establishment of an independent state amazes me. While the conflict in Israel-Palestine is clearly different than that of Estonia and the Soviet Union, I think that everyone, from individuals to nation-states can learn something from the Estonian people. They recognized the immense emotional sway music exercises on people and used it to unite an entire country peacefully. To have not lost a single life in a revolution is profound in a way that needs to be recognized and respected. I look forward to the date I check the news and that has replaced violence as the headlines.

Reading Response: Delimiting Identity

The first piece I read for this week's reading was the excerpt from Parallels and Paradoxes: Explorations in Music and Society, and I was immediately drawn in. The first conversation begins with a discussion about what 'home' is and how it can be fluid. Daniel Barenboim says that he "feel[s] at home in the idea of Jerusalem". He then continues to talk about identity in relation to where one is at home. Edward Said describes this sense of identity as "a set of currents, flowing currents, rather than a fixed place or a stable set of objects".

I watched this theme of self-definition and different identities continue throughout the remainder of the readings. My favorite moment was in "A Dog's Life" in Sharon and my Mother-in-Law: Ramallah Diaries.  Unlike the other pieces, Nura the dog was the character who had multiple and unique identities. Unbeknownst to herself, Nura was among the most privileged residents of the West Bank: she had a Jerusalem passport. To me, she has a home in the same "idea" of Jerusalem that Barenboim feels at home in. She got passport, as a dog, to a place she had never been, while thousands of residents had been forcibly moved from or denied access to their home. It seems it is the latter that Barenboim has a conflict with, and the former that he calls home: a place Nura has never been and does not yet exist, but one that Barenboim hopes to find in his musical work and the West-Eastern Divan Orchestra.

Now I turn the question to you all: obviously, identity and a sense of home are inextricable parts of the Israel-Palestine conflict. But what are these things? Should they be treated as "fixed objects" or "flowing currents"? Can "home" be a place that does not exist? What does this mean for the way the peace process should continue?

Discussion Response: Priorities

At the end of class today, something was mentioned that really stood out to me. As we discussed the importance of LGBTQ rights in Israel-Palestine and the greater Arab world, the idea of solving the 'big problems' first and then how to classify issues by importance arose. Like most people, I have my own set of ideas on what is right, what is wrong, and what should be given preeminence. I don't expect everyone to agree with me, and this is usually okay, because most people don't force their priorities and opinions upon me, either. However, in the Middle East and especially in a city like Jerusalem, one person's opinion on the urgency of a matter does not only offend others, it can impact their rights, their livelihood, and their day-to-day existence. Disagreement takes on a whole new meaning.

In speaking with both Shabbat of a Lifetime and Jerusalem Open House this week, I was given a new perspective on two organizations' list of priorities. Shabbat of a Lifetime is an organization dedicated to giving outsiders an authentic, Israeli Shabbat dinner: their focus is on the daily life and culture of ordinary people in a deeply conflicted country. This is a legitimate opinion-- many Israelis have taken the stance of 'moving on'. They want to live their lives and have families, just as all people should. Others, however, might take offense to this: there are not equal rights between Palestinians and Israelis, so all else is a moot point. They would argue that an extended conflict does not make it an unimportant conflict. Open House (and Alqaws, even though we did not speak with them) is focused on the specific rights of LGBTQ people in Jerusalem. Once again, this is appropriate: no one should have to live under the threat of violence and discrimination just for being who they are.  However, many disagree on the prioritization of these organizations. Even those who support LGBTQ rights might argue that there is a larger issue at hand: peace between Israel and Palestine.

I am not trying to support or debunk the decisions that either of these groups have made on what they believe the most important problem in Jerusalem is. Rather, I am simply considering the effect prioritization has on personal relationships, a community, and, in this case, a larger conflict. Like I mentioned above, I believe that each person has the right to decide what it most important in their life. However, I come from a world where prioritization has relatively low-stakes, and Jerusalem is teaching me to reevaluate my opinions even halfway across the globe.

1. To what would you delegate the highest priority in the Israel-Palestine conflict?
2. In a world where everyone places importance in different places, where does one find solutions?

Reading Response: Territory and the Meaning of Place

The importance of land to twenty-first century Americans often does not extend beyond our backyard. While we may love our hometown, most of us do not share the passionate zeal many Israeli and Palestinians have for Jerusalem.

While I was aware of this on a superficial level, reading the article by Shlomo Hassan helped me to develop this understanding on a whole new level. Territory is not just a piece of earth in one's ownership; rather, it symbolizes of thousands of years of history and religious pride, making it a point of high contention. It also separates and segregates-- once established in a place, it is often easier to turn inwards, thereby ostracizing those on the outside. It was fascinating to read about the way the city as separated itself by race, economic class, and religious sect.

Through our readings and class discussions, I have learned much about the wall and and separation of Israelis and Palestinians, but I did not realize the extent of the divide between secular and Haredi Jews before this week's reading. It seems counterintuitive to me that the most religious Jews would be anti-Zionist: against the formation of a Jewish state in the homeland. There are also many more ultra-Orthodox Jews in Israel than anywhere else, and, for the most part, they live off a stipend from the government... if the State of Israel disintegrated, what would they do? If anyone knows more about this and would like to explain or point me in the right direction, please do!

Project Outline

My initial idea for the final project was to work with the women from an English language program where I volunteer. Unfortunately, I will not be able to continue on this trajectory, so I've rethought the project and decided to try something entirely new.

I love to cook. Food is central to all activities in my family and cooking is how I have bonded with my aunts, uncles, and cousins growing up. When I think about Jerusalem, then, my first thought is about what and how people eat. What are the most common/popular Israeli and Palestinian dishes? What makes them so loved, and who makes and eats them? Is there anything particular to the city?

After doing some initial research, both online and (hopefully) with some primary sources, I'm going to start cooking. I want to try my hand at these dishes, reinvent them, combine them, and see what happens. I will photo/video-document my experiments and if I am successful in any way I will certainly bring something to class to share.

Although I won't be able to follow through with my original idea, I am excited to experience Jerusalem at home in my own kitchen. Food can tell so much about a people and culture, and this is one I look forward to getting to know.

Reading Response: Art Divide

Like many people, the first thing to jump out at me when researching the separation barrier was the art. I have always loved all forms of public art, especially murals. They are, to me, a literal image of the people in that place, a physical marker of a thought or feeling. If this is true anywhere, it is certainly true of the art on the separation barrier in the West Bank.

The murals on the wall show love. They show hatred. They show pain and sadness and reality, and beauty and victory and joy. More than anything though, they represent everyday life. The wall did not stop time. Daily tasks must be completed. Tests must be studied for, bills must be paid, and life must go on. The only difference is that the wall serves as a constant remind that just because this is real life, it does not mean it is normal life, acceptable life, or good life.

I do not believe that art can still be created in a world devoid of a possibility of a better future. While the wall exists today, dividing town, neighborhoods, and families, it would not be covered in art, hopeful, cacophonous, passionate art, were a permanent structure. When the separation barrier is gone, the art will remain-- in the minds of the people, their thoughts yet to be imprinted on a slab of concrete. That will be the day there is peace.

Reading Response: Teenagers, War, and the Power of Music

Teenagers. Creative, volatile, passionate, spontaneous, and the future of the world. Both the rappers we read about today, and many of the smaller names mentioned in the Tablet Mag article, began their work before they were even in high school, full to the brim with ideas and dreams about a bright and better future. The Heartbeat Project, too, uses music to bring young people together to find common ground. It's not hard, when you're 16. It's so much easier to see someone from the 'other side' as just another kid who gets grounded by unreasonable parents and is nervous about that biology test next week than 'the enemy'.

War. I am fortunate enough to have grown up a pretty stereotypical, middle-class, liberal family in a quiet neighborhood in Columbus. I do not know war. I will not pretend to understand. All I know is what I read in the media, which, as we have been discussing in class, is unavoidably operating with a second agenda. I realize that growing up in such a conflicted and contested place would create a deep rift even between people so malleable as teenagers. It is a different world.

The Power of Music. Everyone listens to music. All types, all languages, all occasions, all times of day. It seems to appeal to a deeper level of humanity we all share, one that provokes emotion in a way we cannot describe. Teenagers plus war could only lead to something so powerful as music: angry music, pained music, proud music. Leftist Israelis call Subliminal racist; the right wing named him a true patriot. His fellow rappers shunned him as the musician who killed the Israeli hip hop scene; he is looking to find European and American audiences. Israeli Jews hate Israeli Arabs for being Arab; Arabs hate Israeli Arabs for being Israeli. DAM is under fire for 'suporting terrorism'; they also collaborated with UN Women to raise worldwide awareness about 'honour killings'. Music tells two messages: what the singer sings, and what the listener hears. It is a difference beyond the words of the song.

Discussion Questions:

1. What role will rap play, if any, in the peace process?

2. Do you see the work of the two musicians we read about as positive or counterproductive?

Journal: Identity Symbols

I come from a family of 26 cousins spread out across 3 continents, and we hold two things to the highest importance: reunions, and food. "Dumpling Night" is a must at family get-togethers, and we crowd around the island counter in my eldest aunt's kitchen and make hundreds and hundreds little meat-and-vegetable filled dough pockets, called "jiao zi" (when boiled) or "guotie" (when panfried). I've been making these beauties, my favorite food, since I was five, and if there is anything that sums up family into one neat package, it's fried in oil and filled with pork and cabbage.

My One True Home will always be in a small, backwoods town in northern Vermont on the 50 acres of fields dotted with a classic red barn and white saltbox house my aunt owns. There's not much else to say here-- I grew up spending the whole summer there, and I love the wide open spaces and endless outdoors activity (no wifi, no cable, and cell phone reception only in one particular corner of one particular window in the living room). I mean, look at the picture. You can't beat that view-- and it isn't even the best one.

Three years ago, my family moved to Dunedin, New Zealand. Talk about "identity shaping experiences". It is an amazing country, and I often wish I had retained enough of my accent to claim ownership to it. If you ever have the opportunity to visit-- do!!

Jerusalem Now: Article Analysis

One does not have to look far to find media coverage of Jerusalem. A simple Google search of the name of the city returns 29,400,000 results. Narrow it down to "News", and there are still 66,600 articles. I chose three of these, from three sources on three topics, to analyze for this post.

The first, Man lightly wounded in Jerusalem stabbing, by Itamar Sharon, was from The Times of Israel, a non-partisan news source focused on events related to Jews both in Israel and in the diaspora. It was a short piece that detailed the assault of a young ultra-Orthodox man and mentioned two other similar stabbings by convicted East Jerusalem residents, perhaps insinuating, though not stating, the this attacker is also Palestinian. The piece was accompanied by a photograph captioned "An ultra-Orthodox man in the Old City of Jerusalem". Although the man is in the foreground, the focus of the picture is the wall behind him and the poster on it, both of which are covered in Arabic. The words "Palestinian" and "Arab" are not used once within the piece, but the opinion that the assailant is Palestinian is made obvious through the mention of other attacks by East Jerusalemites and the use of the photograph.


The second piece, from CNN, was entitled Israel approves permits for new settlements in East Jerusalem. The author, Kareem Khadder, makes a clear attempt to write about the "facts on the ground": he states that settlements in the West Bank have been built for many years but are illegal under international law. A slight (although appropriate, given the situation) bias is evident in that he did not include any statements in support of the settlements, while there were multiple quotes from those opposed to them. The photograph accompanying the piece, captioned "A Palestinian man's house was demolished by Israeli authorities February 5, 2014 in Jabel Mukaber", is also placed to engender sympathy for displaced Palestinians as a result of the settlement project. The rest of the piece provides opinions on the effects of the projects on the ongoing peace process as well as a very brief background to the status of East Jerusalem and the West Bank.

I felt that these two pieces paralleled the Issam Nassar article in many ways. Nassar writes about how photograph often can convey either more or less of what exists in reality, and the pictures in both pieces certainly were meant to evoke a particular thought or emotion. The focus on the Arabic on the wall and the poster in the photo in the first piece are unusual when one considers that the only facts in the piece were about a Jew. The second photograph is heart wrenching-- a couple sits among the rubble that was their home until it was illegally destroyed by the government. Without these images, the articles would have had a sterile, unaffected appearance.

The final piece I read was an op-ed column in the New York Times by Thomas L. Friedman. Who's Garbage Is This Anyway? describes a unique tour the author took around the Jerusalem area. Unlike the previous two pieces, the focal point of this article was not the Israel-Palestine conflict, but rather the environmental issues that have developed because of disagreement. Friedman points out that "[w]e've learned in the last few years that the colonial boundaries of the Middle East do not correspond to the ethnic, sectarian and tribal boundaries... But neither do the ecosystem boundaries correspond with any borders or walls." In previous posts I have often noted my belief in the importance of Israelis and Palestinians finding common ground, be it in their love of the city or their desire to protect their families. Maintaining the environment is an excellent example in that it is entirely unrelated to religious differences and everyone, no matter what ID card they hold, will suffer the consequences if the two groups can't work together. Examples in the piece included sewage from East Jerusalem flowing untreated into the Dead Sea, floods in Nablus destroying the security barrier, carcinogens leaking into water supplies in Beersheba and Hebron, and the threat of running out of potable water in Gaza. These are serious problems, and Mother Nature won't wait for a peace agreement.

All three articles offered a glimpse into how the rest of the world sees Jerusalem: not through the eyes of Karen Armstrong and 430 pages of history, but through short headlines and brief articles mixed into all the news from everywhere else in the world. It is a different city, but it is the one present in the minds of most Americans, myself included up until the start of this class-- which leads me to my discussion questions:

1. How does the very limited view of most people in the world affect the way they think about the reality of the conflict? Is it the same problem when you take out the knowledge of the history behind it?

2. Do the opinions and viewpoints of common people in countries faraway even affect the steps towards a resolution, or does it make a difference? Are the thoughts of the people in the country and world powers the only ones that matter?

Initial Project Ideas

For the past several months, I have been a regular volunteer at a program called International Neighborhood Coffee Hour, more commonly called INCH. Every Wednesday for the past fifty years, American women have congregated to offer free English lessons to immigrant women from all over the world. The all-female environment makes it more comfortable for many newcomers, and I am personally involved in the childcare that is offered so mothers can come with their young children.

Due to the extreme weather conditions as of late, INCH has not met the past two weeks, so I have been unable to discuss this with the coordinator. However, I plan on talking to women who have recently immigrated from Israel-Palestine. As recent both women and recent immigrants, they will have a unique experience that I have the opportunity to experience first hand.

As I said, I haven't had time to legitimate this with anyone at INCH, hence "initial" ideas. I will be checking next week to make sure it is possible.

Discussion Response: Separate, Not Equal

This week we had our first opportunity to talk with two individuals living and breathing life in Israel-Palestine everyday. After talking with both Dr Tamari and Beti Herschmann, I was most struck by the effect of the separation barrier, particularly in around the Jerusalem area.

I knew very little about the wall, where it went, and what effect it had until these talks. As we walked through the Ir Amim map in class on Thursday, I began to see how very carefully the entirety of Jerusalem, the Israeli settlements, and the political and physical lines were laid out. Modern Jerusalem did not grow organically. It was particularly manufactured by Israelis, for Israelis, and often at the expense of the Palestinians.

The security barrier is meant to keep Israeli citizens safe, and the government, as a sovereign state, has both the right and the responsibility to protect its citizens. One look at the map, however, reveals that the wall often runs right through the middle of Palestinian neighborhoods-- in effect separating families and friends already suffering from lack of infrastructure and little government funding for necessities like a sewage system and proper schools.

What I found most interesting, though, were the Israeli settlement blocks. I've seen pictures, massive high rises popping out of the foothills of the city, and I've heard and read plenty about them, but I so wonder what it would be like to live there. Many have been around for years-- people have been born and grew up in these places built for the purpose of pushing Israel farther and farther into the West Bank and considered illegal by international law. What is the general consensus on the legitimacy in Har Homa? Does it affect daily life? The thousands of people who live in any of these contested areas are really just people, and that is what makes them and their home so very interesting.

Reading Response: Solidarity

Reading Karen Armstrong's "Jerusalem: One City, Three Faiths" has been nothing if not a whirlwind. While the first several chapters were dense with unfamiliar details and difficult to read, I understood their importance upon reaching the end of the book, where everything came together. I don't think I would have appreciated the recent history (about which I did not previously know very much) without a more comprehensive view of the entire background of the city.

However, these last few chapters have certainly been the most interesting to me. It was heartbreaking to watch the deterioration from the relative peace and coexistence under Suleiman to the passionate hatred not uncommon among those of all three faiths. I was, though, surprised to read of the depth of the schisms within each religion. No wonder peace is so far off-- not only are the Israelis and the Palestinians unable to find a solution, the Israelis and Palestinians individually are not even united fronts.

Throughout the history of the strife-ridden region, I found the most hope in instances where different people found a common cause and and were able to united under one front. The reasons weren't always pleasant-- like when the Jews and Muslims were equally persecuted by the Crusaders, or, in these chapters, when competitive missionary Christians tried to outdo each other caring for the Jewish poor-- but, for a brief moment, two peoples were able to either see someone otherwise so different as the same or accomplish some good. No matter the circumstances, the feelings caused by these events are real, and to know such an emotion even for a moment can change one's outlook on life.

It is my hope that sometime soon, Israelis and Palestinians will find some common ground. I could imagine their shared devotion to their homeland that has caused the conflict in the first place would also be the first steps towards a resolution, but no matter the circumstances, should they feel united, I believe the emotion involved could be enough to catalyze massive change. People everywhere have stakes in the outcome of this ongoing struggle, but only the inhabitants of Jerusalem live the stakes on a daily basis. It might well be that the cause of this issue is also its solution.

Reading Response: War and Peace

The Crusades have always been a surreal, distant event to me. I learned dates and names in middle school world history; I am familiar with current-day pop culture references; I know of the brutality and bloodshed they entailed. However, it was not until reading the Armstrong chapters that I truly began to understand how much I did not understand.

As we have worked our way through the first half or so of this book, it struck me time and again how often the Jews and the Muslims worked together in Jerusalem to keep the outside enemy away. At no point was this more apparent to me than the years leading up to and during the First Crusade. Persecution, originally from local Christians but later almost entirely from those from Europe, gave Islam and Judaism sufficient common ground to walk on. The religions, at their core, also share many of the same principals: both groups placed the highest value on social justice and considered themselves the be the descendants of the great Abraham.

When the Franks arrived and decimated the city, they not only slaughtered thousands of previously peaceful and contentedly coexisting Jews and Muslims, they exiled many of the local Christians as well, determined to make Jerusalem the holy city of their Western imagination. I practically laughed aloud upon reading of the disgust of the pilgrims a generation later: the "Westerns" who had grown up in the Eastern culture of Jerusalem were "going native"-- they took regular baths, lived in houses, and wore soft clothing-- much to the horror of their "countrymen".

I have grown up in a culture and an age where the Middle East is a war-torn region of the world and Jerusalem is the center of a conflict between the Jews and Muslims who call it both home and holy. To remember that is was once a place of coexistence between Judaism and Islam-- and in a time when the West had yet to discover the virtues of bathing regularly no less-- is important, and especially important to those of us, like myself, who know nothing else. Griping over ancient grievances will get you nowhere, but to know that peace had existed in the past makes it that much more a realistic goal for the future.

Journal: Dwell Not on the Past

One afternoon last fall, my aunt called me.

"Kellie! I just read the most interesting article. I know how much you will enjoy it. You must look it up."

"I will," I replied. "What's it about? What's it called?"

"Israel and Palestine; it's so fascinating. New York Times I believe. Sunday paper."

The article was an opinion piece called Two State Illusion, written by Ian S. Lustick, a professor at the University of Pennsylvania. At the time I was reading it, September 2013, I knew little more than a basic outline of the conflict in Israel-Palestine. When I read the prompt for this journal assignment, I found the article and with my slightly more expanded view, I read it again.

While I don't agree with everything the author puts forth, the basic message and the last line of the piece  in particular rung true for me. Lustick emphasizes the importance of "ending the stifling reign of an outdated idea and allowing both sides to see and then adapt to the world as it is."

As an outsider looking in, the most prominent aspect of the conflict is an obsession with the past. This is both a good and bad thing. The New York Times article focuses on the two-state solution as an obsession from the past: Lustick believes it is outdated and, over the decades, has frozen the peace process. I don't feel that I am yet well enough informed to determine whether one or two states are a more agreeable outcome for both sides, but I whole-heartedly concur that nothing will be accomplished if Israelis, Palestinians, and Americans treat this conflict as if it is the same one they were dealing with in 1948, 1967, or even just ten years ago. Generations have passed since the first creation of the state of Israel. New people mean that there is a new problem, and a new problem calls for a new solution. No good will come of pretending we're in an era we're not.

A simple acceptance of the change of times seems trivial, but I believe that the next steps towards a peace process are impossible without it. This may mean the end of attempts at a two-state solution, or it may not, but so long as the politicians and the people of both nationalities are act as if nothing has changed over the years, they will continue forward on this current trajectory of nothing more than a stalemate. The "world as it is" is ever-changing. We need to keep up.

Discussion Response: Prejudice

I have always most valued discussion-based classes for the chance they offer to realize one's own preconceptions and then to have them challenged in a thoughtful manner, and to do the same for others. Every person comes with prejudices and judgmental ideas, often unbeknownst to their holder, and this is both the division that causes conflict and the source of the creativity that finds solutions. Questioning is how we as people learn, and questioning oneself is both the hardest and most important part of any education.

In discussing Karen Armstrong's book today in class, I noticed in myself a preconception differing from many others in the room. Most of my classmates were at the very least raised in a religion, and many still practice. This is common among people around the world, but not myself. My parents are not at all religious, so I grew up without much exposure to any of the major faiths. I did not, for a long time, know their foundations, their stories, or their core beliefs. So, when reading the first several Armstrong chapters, I did not have the collective memory of the history of Jerusalem and the surrounding area. It was simply an interesting history lesson, nothing more, nothing less.

Then, in class, many people commented on how the reading paralleled or conflicted with what they had been taught growing up or what they believe now. While I thought I had understood before, it was not until today that I truly began to appreciate the gravity of the conflicting histories of not only several religions but also secular studies. As someone who does not have a first hand experience growing up in faith, I will never fully be able to grasp the connection so many feel with Jerusalem and its past. I most certainly come with my own preconceptions, but, as is usual, not the ones I expected. I hope that as the semester continues I will be able to better understand religious significance of the three faiths tied to the city now knowing I view it in such a foreign way.

Reading Response: Verbatim

Last semester I took a class in the Classics Department called Introduction to the New Testament. As someone who was raised in a secular household, I had always felt that I was missing some essential part of my basic education. This lack of knowledge of major faiths and the influence they exert on modern culture has led into a deep fascination of religion. It also led me to that New Testament class, and to this class about a city so sacred to the three major monotheistic belief systems.

In the Introduction to the New Testament, I came to realize how disputed the historical life of Jesus was. The only major written sources we have are the four gospels of the Bible, the earliest of which was written decades after the death of Jesus and all of which contain the bias of being written by Christians. In Karen Armstrong's brief summary of the life, death, and rising of Jesus I recognized stories and passages from all of the gospels (whose plot lines do not always agree).

Such dissonance within just one faith of the three that hold Jerusalem so holy exemplifies just how deeply the conflict runs. The first seven chapters detail the history of the city from the earliest records thousands of years ago. However, just as the four gospels are a disputed source for "facts" about Jesus, all records, especially those so removed from the modern era, undoubtably have faults. In a city already plagued by differing beliefs about the "truth" and religious events, even the secular "history" will never be verbatim. This is a reality that emphasizes the importance of belief. This conflict has been going on far too long for what "really" happened to be much of a concern. Any solution will come only from a combination of the acceptance of today's reality, respect of "belief" as equally valuable as "fact", and a focus forward instead of back.

Journal: Week 1 Reflection

I like to think of myself as generally open minded. Throughout my life, I have always made an attempt to look at any given situation from as many points of view as possible and to respect and acknowledge others' opinions. I know that no one does this perfectly, but this first week of class was a good reminder of just how much work I still have to do.

I don't know enough about Jerusalem or the Palestine-Israel conflict to have an informed opinion on it, but the little I have heard about each side's argument I respect. However, I, like any other person, have my own personal, and sometimes unrealized, prejudices. In the readings and discussions in class this week, the depth and complexity of the tension in Jerusalem has become apparent to me in a way that it was not before. I was surprised to hear about communities of Jews that spoke primarily Arabic and Arabs who also consider themselves Israeli and hold citizenship. My preformed ideas about the culture in Palestine-Israel was not so much about generalizations as it was about the fact that I have never taken the time to sit down and really consider this city and environment that is a daily reality for millions of people.

I hope that this class will force me to spend much, much more time sitting and down and truly considering this place, these religions, these people, and these cultures in a way that will allow me to appreciate what it means to be Israeli, Palestinian, Arab, Christian, Muslim, Jewish... the list goes on. The more people, even just the nine students in this class, that make an attempt at this understanding, the closer Palestine-Israel is to peace both within itself and the world around it.

Reading Response: Jerusalem, the Name

The name "Jerusalem", as the city is known in English, comes from the Hebrew word "Yerushalaim", meaning the city of peace. In Arabic, this same city is called "al-Quds al-Sharif", or the noble holy place. Despite such majestic names, Jerusalem is a city that has been in conflict practically since it began as a small village thousands of years ago.

Before beginning this class, I was only knowledgeable about the most basic facts of the Israel-Palestine conflict. While reading the essays for this week, I felt that my eyes were opened to a more thorough history of the place, the people, and the cultures, and I was able to understand the divide through the eyes of both Israelis and the Palestinians instead of as a disconnected, faraway outsider.

In this city known internationally for violence and political debacles, the beautiful meanings of the names the local people gave their home centuries ago stood out to me. Jerusalem is both a divided city and one rich in many religions and cultures. Yerushalaim and al-Quds al-Sharif represent what Israelis and Palestinians love so much about this place, the same things that are lost when Jerusalem is placed on the international political stage. When the wonders of the city, everything from the al-Asqa Mosque and the Western Wall to the favorite local bakery in a small neighborhood, are brought the forefront of the city's image, the people will be that much closer to a solution to their differences.

Questions:
1. Could the names Yerushalaim and al-Quds al-Sharif one day represent united peace and united holiness for the whole city to its residents, or are they inherently applicable to only the religion and culture the names come from? How the locals currently view this?
2. Does a place's name affect one's perception of it, even when the name is so familiar is loses meaning in daily use?

Hello!

Hi, I'm Kellie, and this is my Living Jerusalem blog. Enjoy!