Reflections on Gaza

(A photo I took there in 2015)

 In 2015, I was part of a delegation to Palestine, with stops in Israel in Tel Aviv and Jaffa.

We visited Ramallah, Nablus, Hebron, Bethlehem, and East and West Jerusalem. And Gaza. That sounds like a lot, but everything is close there in terms of geography. In terms of Palestinian people’s ability to freely move around and between the West Bank and Gaza, not so much.

Obviously, that doesn’t make me an expert, but I saw things I wish I hadn’t seen and learned things I wish I didn’t know. Sometimes knowledge brings no joy. 

I’m not interested in picking any fights, justifying any atrocities, minimizing anyone’s suffering, or valuing some lives and deaths over others. But I can say some things about Gaza or what Gaza was with some confidence.

One, it has often been called an open-air prison. Don’t take my word for it—just google the term. In my experience that wasn’t far off the mark.

Two, it’s tiny. For comparison, one of our smaller counties is Wirt with around 235 square miles and a little over 5,000 people. Gaza is more than 1/3 smaller, at around 140 square miles, but it has—or had—2.3 million people, one of the world’s densest populations. In parts of it, you’d have a hard time shaking a stick without hitting someone. 

Three, it’s been under military blockade for 15 or so years. Everything was scarce, including safe drinking water, food, power, sanitation, and all the basics. At the time, people were trying to rebuild after the last conflict. Around then, the UN said it wouldn’t be livable by 2020. As for the accuracy of that prediction, I guess it’s a matter of definition. It’s definitely true now.

Four, the unemployment rate was around 50 percent before the war. I saw lots of people sitting at tables and hoping to sell things nobody would ever buy. Before this crisis, around 80 percent relied on aid from the UN.

Five, about half the population consists of children under 18 living in very adverse conditions. There’s lots of science about how adverse childhood experiences (ACEs) can lead to all kinds of problems down the road. 

Six, it wasn’t easy to get into and almost impossible for most residents to leave. I found the sense of claustrophobia overwhelming. 

Seven, I’m sure most people there were not connected with those wielding power. That’s true everywhere in the world and is especially true of the women and children who have made up the bulk of casualties.  A pre-war poll found that 44 percent of Gazans had no trust at all in the government and 23 percent had “not a lot of trust.” 

Eight, there are Christians there, representing Catholic, Orthodox, and Protestant traditions, although church buildings have been damaged or demolished by bombings from recent or previous conflicts. Gaza’s only Christian hospital, once connected with Southern Baptists, was bombed in mid-October. It was the only that treated cancer.

Nine, it has one of the world’s highest literacy rates for men and women, above 97 percent, higher than ours. Gazans value higher education, although resources were slim and are now nonexistent. I remember talking with men and women university students about their love for English language writers like Dickens, Twain, and Hemingway. Reading and writing were their ways of dealing with the feeling of isolation from the world.

Ten, most people there are or are descended from people displaced from Israel. Many are or were still  living in refugee camps.

As a thought experiment, try closing your eyes and imagining a situation like this happening anywhere in the world.

One of the most striking things about the people was their refusal to be defined by their situation. More than once, members of the delegation teared up when seeing the conditions. “Why are you crying? We’re living our lives” was their typical response.

I’m sure many of the people I saw have been killed or injured and all have been displaced and are dealing with horrible conditions  of hunger, thirst, disease, lack of medical care, and trauma.

Watching this reminds me of the aftermath of 9/11, when people were understandably afraid and outraged. Unfortunately, the response by US leaders had disastrous consequences, including invading Iraq, which wasn’t involved in the attacks. The result was around 4,500 US military fatalities and 32,000 wounded. Well over 30,000 US veterans of Iraq and Afghanistan have committed suicide, a number that grows every day. The death toll for Iraqis is impossible to calculate, although it’s in the hundreds of thousands. The long-term cost will be around $2 trillion. And the situation in that part of the world still isn’t rosy.

The use of force is always unpredictable, with unintended consequences for all parties, as any glance at history shows from the days of the Iliad to our time. Violence tends to lead to more of a growing spiral than a cycle, with each act leading to a more severe reprisal. Who knows how many seeds of spiraling violence have been sown over the last few months- or who will reap that whirlwind?

No wonder that public opinion polls in the US and across the world show overwhelming support for de-escalation, massive humanitarian aid, and a ceasefire.

One thing seems clear to me: the longer this situation lasts, the worse the long-term outcomes are going to be. For everyone concerned.

(This ran as an op-ed in the Charleston Gazette-Mail.)

The thing with feathers

 A few weeks back, there were plenty of things I wanted to post about. The (now successful) UAW strike. A major win on child nutrition.  But after the terrible events of the last month, they seemed out of place and tone deaf and I couldn't think of any appropriate thing to say. 

A saying of the Buddha's kept running through my mind: "Better than a thousand empty words is one word that brings peace." Since the market seemed pretty saturated with empty words I paused.

Then I had a dream. 

Although the latest scientific research seems to suggest that dreams are the brain's way of processing memory and recent events, and some are clearly just plain static, I still think they can often bring deep insights from the unconscious. There's a reason that meaningful dreams occur throughout the Bible and many other sources, myths, and legends.

I don't go all the way with Freud or Jung...but I do go a good bit with both. This dream seemed to have something to say about the state of the world and I've shared it with several people.

It went like this:

I was in a city at war with a real life friend and comrade. No other context given. In the waking world, several years previously we were part of a delegation to the West Bank and Gaza that left a huge impression on us both. In the dream, we were part of the underground resistance to an unnamed invader.

In the beginning, we were running through battered streets, trying to avoid being killed or captured, we passed a beautiful bird that appeared to have been damaged by a vehicle crash or explosion. It seemed to be dead or dying. Since we were being pursued, we didn't have time to stop. Besides, we didn't know what else to do aside from making sure it was out of its misery.

After a number of encounters, we ran back the way we had come. To our surprise, the bird was on its feet and starting to flap it's wings. We looked at each other and said something like, "Holy ****, the bird might actually recover!"

I woke up and immediately this well knwon poem by Emily Dickinson came to mind: 

Hope is the thing with feathers

That perches in the soul,

And sings the tune without the words,

And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;

And sore must be the storm

That could abash the little bird

That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land,

And on the strangest sea;

Yet, never, in extremity,

It asked a crumb of me.

My takeaway: the thing with feathers really might recover. 

 

Bad news this morning

I woke up this morning to the news of Anthony Bourdain's apparent death by suicide. It really came as quite a shock. He seemed like someone on top of the world, but this just goes to show we never really know what's going on inside a person.

I was slow to get on the bandwagon. We don't have cable on the farm, nor do we have the state flower (satellite dish). I first became a fan after my trip to Palestine in 2015, when a friend mentioned he did a show on that. I watched and it seemed like he got it right.

He really had a knack for combing cuisine with cultural observation, political insights, and empathy. (I also have to mention that he was a fellow martial artist who was pretty advanced in Brazilian jiu jitsu.)

When I heard he was doing a segment on McDowell County, WV, I was curious but had a feeling he'd do it right. In my opinion, he did. Here's what I wrote about it in an earlier post:

For natives of the state, it's almost never a good thing when WV gets national media attention. Stereotypes, over-simplifications and poverty porn about. But I'd have to say that aside from a few minor criticisms about certain outliers, he and his crew got it right. The school featured, Mount View High School, is one of the schools my domestic partner teaches at and she knew kids well. I saw some friends as well. And I love McDowell County, which was where most of it was filmed.

I know some people had issues with it, but I think it could have been SOOOOO much worse.

I think the world will be a good bit worse without him. I know West Virginia lost a friend and advocate.

I wish him a good journey to parts unknown.

You get what you pay for

West Virginia is dry as a bone right now, although it may rain tomorrow inshallah. It's so dry that dust springs up when our dogs walk across the field. The creek is dry except for a few holdout holes for the first time since 2012. Oh yeah, and fire season is  approaching.

Fall brush fires around here are not as catastrophic (for now) as those in California and other places, but they can be pretty scary. I remember one year when you could see long lines of fire snaking along the mountains of Logan County. In fact, the one on-duty injury I sustained in my short, happy and inglorious career as a volunteer fire fighter happened during a brush fire.

(Actually, it was a burn from a flare, but the flare started it.)

Anyhow, fire season and managing woodlands has gotten a bit harder lately, since the state had to lay off 37 foresters due to legislative inaction. Come to think of it, those guys might have been useful in reducing the impact of severe flooding in the future by monitoring the damage done by corporate clear cutters.

Holy hashtag failed state, Batman!

Meanwhile, the state's opioid crisis keeps rippling out. This WV Public Broadcasting story explores how it's impacting the foster care system in the state.

And, while we're at it, here's an op-ed by my friend the Rev. Matthew J. Watts about what might happen politically if all of the state's convicted felons voted. They can in WV, but many don't vote or even realize that it's legal here.

Finally, a little over a year ago I was part of an AFSC delegation to Palestine. I have many grim and sad memories of the trip. However, I have nothing but fondness when I think back on hanging with comrades and drinking Taybeh, a primo Palestinian beer.

O little refugee camp of Bethlehem

I got back from the trip to Palestine and Israel Sunday, but haven't had much chance to blog since then. This time, I'd like to share some images from the Aida refugee camp in Bethlehem. The camp was established in 1950 by refugees from Jerusalem and Hebron. According to the UN, there were around 4,700 residents there. The camp hasn't grown with the size of the population.

For the first few years, residents lived in tents, but gradually more substantial shelters were built. Sometimes people wonder why refugees stayed in the camps for so long. For one thing, there aren't a whole lot of places to go. For another, being a refugee or a lineal descendant of a refugee provides certain status and protections from the United Nations Relief and Work Agency.

Also, many people who live there dream of returning to their homes. Hence the frequency of the key symbolism.

Access to water and electricity is iffy. One way to spot a Palestinian home is the water tanks on the room. Sometimes the supply is cut for hours or days with no warning. And water is a big deal in that part of the world. One Palestinian father told our delegation that when his daughters are able to travel outside the area, they don't talk about scenery. Instead, they say "It was the best shower of my life."

The wall built by Israel around 2004 has made life, work, and mobility difficult, but at least it's a place for murals.

This is a particular sore spot for many Palestinians.

Narrow streets.

No comments necessary here.

This is a school for Palestinian girls. There are no windows on the side facing the wall. This is intended to keep out bullets.

One more anecdote. One man who had three daughters recently found out his wife is pregnant with a boy. Traditionally, this is an occasion for joy, but he says he prefers girls. Life is very dangerous for boys and young men, who can be swept up in arrests. Children as young as 12 can be tried and sentenced in military courts, albeit "juvenile" ones.

What Gaza could be

"But hell can endure for only a limited period, and life will begin again one day."--Albert Camus

I've been blogging about Gaza the last few days. I could do more, but there are other places to discuss while they are still fresh in mind. But I have some things to say before moving on.

First, as a West Virginian, I know that even the down and out places in the world aren't down and out all the time. There is joy as well as sorrow among the ashes. Or coal slurry. I don't want those who look at this blog to think of Gaza as only a smoking rubble or place under siege.

For one thing, I don't think I knew what feasting really was until our AFSC delegation came here. And damn...so that's what eating fish is meant to be.

When Gaza's--and this entire region's--season in hell ends (inshallah), it could actually be a destination resort.

It would take a lot for that to happen.The UN recently reported that without rapid remedial action, live will become "unliveable" by 2020.

When our delegation spoke with young people in AFSC's program there, many of us became emotional about their plight. One of the young people spoke up, saying something like "Why do you cry for us? Despite all this we are living our lives."

Despite all the death and destructon, I wouldn't bet against life here.

Scenes from Gaza

It's not easy get into Gaza these days. It requires a permit from the Israeli government. If you get that, there's a grueling checkpoint that involves inspections and questioning on the Israeli side, which can take a long time. Two other checkpoints follow, one by the Palestinian Authority and the other by Hamas.


Our AFSC delegation went to a high point of the city to observe damage.

There was plenty of it.

For a little background, check this earlier post.

Still, people are trying to rebuild.

Money and new materials are scarce since the Palestinians have no control of their borders.

Still people go about the business of life.

Young people in an AFSC program there work towards a better future despite incredible challenges.

I don't have any pictures to go with this, but one evening we met with a professor and his students who have published a book in English (that was translated into several other languages) called Gaza Talks Back. It was a great discussion, not only about the situation there but also about the power of writing and the love of language and literature. Particular favorite English speaking writers were Twain, Hemingway, and Dickens.

Not exactly what you might expect. But you can expect anything here.

It's not all shrines

I've just gotten back from an overnight trip to Gaza and a day in Ramallah as part of an American Friends Service Committee to Israel and Palestine, but I'm not even ready to go there. The experiences were so intense I'll need some time to sort them out. Instead, I'd like to share some pictures from East Jerusalem. Yes, that would be the part that is mostly Palestinian, not counting settlements.

There's a bit of a contrast between the west and east sides of the city. Some differences may include things like a reliable supply of power and water and not having your house torn down.

Then there's this eight meter high security barrier wall that started to spring up in the first half of the 2000s.

Sometimes you need to read the fine print.

An evening in Jerusalem

It's my first night in Jerusalem. One of the first things I saw was an Israeli-led protest of the eviction of Palestinians from the Sheikh Jarrah community.

There was drumming and chanting.

The security forces were there, but the demonstration was peaceful on all sides.

Here are some views of the skyline.

An Anglican cathedral dedicated to St. George was an island of quiet.

Inside East Jerusalem's Old City.

By tradition, this is part of the "way of sorrows" Jesus walked en route to his crucifixion.

According to tradition, this is where St. Veronica wiped the face of Jesus with a cloth that became a sacred relic.

This is said to be the place where Jesus dropped the cross and Simon of Cyrene was told to carry it for him. I didn't make it along the rest of the Via Dolorosa tonight. But let's just say that the way of sorrows is still pretty crowded here. And it could be getting worse.

A look from the road. More to come.