Sunday, June 15, 2008

Jerusalem

I was already pretty nervous about passport and immigration control in Israel before my flight landed in Tel Aviv. I’d heard many stories of detainment and deportation at Ben Gurion Airport so I had prepared myself. I was ready to tell the people at the immigration office about my forthcoming tourist visit to the Holy Land, to Tel Aviv and Jerusalem in particular. I certainly wouldn’t be mentioning anything about the West Bank. Samar, my host in Ramallah, had stressed that I was not to say anything about my actual plans. I had thoroughly read through the tourist guides about the sights and museums on the airplane and tried to remember details of the supposed places I would visit. However, after only 30 minutes waiting in line, and when it was finally my turn at the passport control, I had no trouble at all and whizzed right through. I had already had plenty of trouble on this journey though as I’d almost missed the flight in Copenhagen and was then searched from top to bottom by Israeli security in Zurich. It was a relief to know that my frayed nerves would be spared this time around.

It was good for me to have an address in Israel to stay in for at least the first night in case the immigration officers questioned me about this. After collecting my suitcase and getting to the Arrival Hall, I was to be picked up by a taxi that would take me to a hotel in Jerusalem. Samar had arranged for the pick up and the taxi driver’s name was Youssef who was, until we got into the taxi, very reserved, discreet and not very talkative. Once we had left the airport and were well on our way on the brand new highway, he began to talk to me. First, he said, it had taken him an hour to get in to the airport because all cars have to drive through a ‘safety-valve’ where the soldiers order all Palestinians out of their vehicles to be searched, even the taxi drivers. Israelis are let through with no hesitation. Youssef told me that the soldiers could tell by his accent that he was Palestinian. Most Palestinians who have permission to move about in Israel can be recognised by their accent even though many speak fluent Hebrew. Samar would never have been able to pick me up because people from the West Bank hardly ever get permission to enter Israel. Youssef has a special identity card, which I think is blue, as he lives in East Jerusalem, and this grants him permission to drive his taxi in Israel (and in the West Bank). Palestinians on the West Bank have a green identity card. The Israeli identity card has a third colour. Youssef told me that at some point he would be given the choice between a Palestinian or Israeli identity card. He was convinced that the Israelis were plotting to incorporate East Jerusalem once and for all, and that the Palestinians that live there would be integrated into this plan so that there would no longer be an independent Palestinian population in East Jerusalem.

Youssef described a separated society, built on discrimination of ethnic groups. There are over a million Palestinians living in Israel, he said. Expanding on his description of discrimination against Palestinians in Israel he presented me with a hypothetical example: He described two landowners, one Israeli and one Palestinian, who both wanted a building permit from the Israeli officials for nearly identical constructions. The Israeli would hardly have to pay anything for the permit, perhaps 100 shekels, while the Palestinian would have to pay an enormous amount, perhaps 20,000 shekels, for the same permit. He stressed that he was not exaggerating the numbers because the different amounts are in fact completely disproportionate, and not, for example, just double what the Israeli pays. In addition, the Israeli would get a permit to build maybe three floors high, while the Palestinian would be lucky to get a permit for just a single floor. But there was not much one could do about that, discrimination made it hopeless to be a Palestinian in Israel. His tale painted a very grim picture of the conditions he was living under as a Palestinian subject to Israeli rule. After a moment’s silence he then told me that this was the very reason why he was cheerful whenever Hezbollah attacked Israel, as they had during the 2006 war in Lebanon, because he felt that he himself could not do what he really wanted to do. For him, the fact that Hezbollah are Shia and Palestinians are Sunni Muslims is secondary; all sides had to unite in the struggle against Israel. The conflict between the Shia and the Sunni Muslims was a different case. He then added that I shouldn’t even consider visiting Gaza. It would be impossible to gain access. Even he could not enter. The situation of the Palestinians in Gaza is even more hopeless than in Israel or on the West Bank.

I hadn’t been paying much attention to the landscape we’d driven through as we’d been chatting during almost the whole trip and we had just about reached the hotel in Jerusalem. However, I had noticed that the landscape was dotted with buildings the whole way from the airport to Jerusalem and that between the houses was a hilly and yellow rocky landscape with occasional green bushes and small trees. The hotel was, by my standards, a luxury hotel. As far as I could tell, it was full of people on group tours from Europe and the USA. But luxury hotels entail that there are servants, people that want to carry your luggage, open doors for you, etc. I just hate it when people are made to act subserviently to me — as being the proletarian that I am, I do not know the secret language of tipping and so on. Samar had booked the hotel for me but I would have rather gone straight to Ramallah.

My room was on the 3rd floor and with a balcony. I found the door to the balcony behind the heavy curtains, stepped out and saw the breathtaking view of Jerusalem at night. Although the sight itself was incredible, most noteworthy were the Islamic prayers bellowing out across the cityscape. It was as if the Palestinians were attempting to at least dominate the city acoustically. It was beautiful and a reminder that the battle of domination had not yet been fully won by Israel, although according to Youssef, the future hardly looked bright.

Before I fell asleep I saw the Czech Republic play Turkey on Al Jazeera with an Arabic commentary. The game was being played at the ongoing European championship in Switzerland/Austria and I hadn’t exactly counted on following the games here in the Middle East. Europe seemed so far away. I could hear from the sounds of the city that Turkey was the favourite team as people cheered when the Turks made a comeback after being behind 2-0. They won 3-2.

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