by Samah Jabr
We live in an ambiguous world
where one person's success is most often another's destruction.
Neither in nature nor in our human experience as beings of nature do
we find justice and fairness readily available to us. As human
beings, we have to devise our own justice and our own fairness
through our human genetic gifts of thought and reason. We come up
with ethics and moral values. Unfortunately, these humanly
divined precepts can be as unjust as the death of a trophy animal
who has lived a long and successful life, a prince among his kind,
who might very well slide out of life by a pool of cool water, his
mate and offspring huddled nearby. Instead, he is chased in his old
age until he falls exhausted. Then, he is shot through the
heart by a hunter not nearly as accomplished as he. He must
die at the hands of a man with advantages, a jeep in which to ride
and a gun with which to shoot. For the animal, this is not justice
or fairness, yet it is a part of his world and ours.
In October 2000, the world has
had access to live television accounts of war. People
everywhere could watch from comfortable seats at home. They could
witness the uneven fight between Arab boys with rocks and Israeli
soldiers with guns. The opportunity to see Palestinians killed in
front of their eyes, the most dramatic on-camera scene being the
murder of a 12-year old boy in Gaza, surely gave pause even to some
Zionists. Most watchers did not see the Hizbullah capture of three
Israeli soldiers, their country's war machines. That event which has
not resulted in death, garnered more than sympathy. It stimulated
action. America, the United Nations, international organizations
jumped to intervene, to protest, to bring violence to an end. They
know the Middle East's eye-for-an-eye mentality, and they were
afraid of reparation: Hizbullah's three; Israel's recompense, one
hundred.
Most Palestinians want an end to
catastrophe much more than the folks watching on television. They
want to get on with their lives, but like the old gazelle being
chased by the powerful hunter, it is not their nature to just die
without an effort to survive. As Palestinian spokeswoman, Hanan
Ashrawi said, "What do you expect us to do, just lie down and
accept what has happened to us?"
Zionists conveniently criticize
the Intifada as well as our current uprising. Like Dr. Ashrawi,
I ask, did the world expect Palestinians to simply fulfill Golda
Meir's famous line in which she said, "There are no
Palestinians. I do not see Palestinians. Do you?"
The world sees Palestinians, now,
but it is only our small conquest over just three soldiers that
elicit genuine response from the big hunters of world power. The
world's response has nothing to do with fairness or justice; it has
to do with fear of the Israeli hunter and the Palestinian hunted
alike and what a war between them will mean in terms of commerce and
convenience.
For those interested in watching
our show, this isn't about justice, compassion or religion, it's
about oil. Let me explain to those of you who speak of fairness and
justice while you think of the value of oil. Fairness and justice
are no more than words to Palestinian youth who have spent their
whole lives going through checkpoints, being forbidden access to
holy places, being jailed, beaten, thrown out of their homes because
their homes are perceived as too close to a road meant to cut them
off. Many Palestinians have been denied the human right of being
able to strive for accomplishment and they have arrived at a state
where stone throwing is the only means available to them.
One Zionist says, "If you
hadn't started the Intifada, you wouldn't have a problem with
Israelis now." To this I respond, what would we have now? Our
homes? Our schools? Our shrines? Our hopes? Does the world know how
many of our mosques have become Israeli stables and bars? Dare we
tell them and will it matter to anyone if we do speak out?"
Barak says, "If you don't stop throwing stones, there will be
an all out war."
But I respond, what is all out
war if this isn't? How can you have all out war when there is only
one army?
Another Zionist says, "The
Palestinians have destroyed Joseph's Tomb, our holy site. Oh, the
Palestinian Authority says they'll restore it, but so what, they
ruined it and should be punished."
What has been ignored here is the
fact that Joseph's tomb is a site which Israeli's use to launch
missiles against the Palestinians. Does the world even know that
Joseph's Tomb was the site of an Islamic shrine, the tomb of a
Turkish Mullah, an Ottoman treasure that was built by Palestinians?
Isn't it unholy for religion's sites, regardless of which they
serve, to become an excuse for the inexcusable? Do any of us really
know where Joseph is buried or where he rose to heaven? How can we
be so sure to the extent that we would use our belief as a graven
image to justify murder or dissipation of those who do not agree
with us?
Ambiguity is a part of our world
and wrongs and rights are rarely as comprehensive as they seem to
individuals. Palestinians ruin a site that once meant something to
them. They are sorry, but being sorry doesn't stop them.
Israelis march on the Harem al-Sharif with disregard for Muslims at
prayer. We all attack each other: the hunter with jeep and gun kills
an honorable gazelle and claims a trophy; the world turns
Palestinians over to Zionists and watches and waits while the taker
fells the proprietor. When will our unique human reason lead us to
compassion beyond our clouded perceptions of each other? Might the
lessons of the Holy Land's current strife provide a lesson? Might
the gentle Kofi Annan guide us to agreement? Feeling like the old
gazelle being chased by the big game hunter, I use religion to bow
in hope that we will all come to our senses. We humans do have
reason as part of our natural beings. Please let us use it to
establish holy fairness.
(Samah Jabr is a freelance
writer and medical student at Al-Quds University in East Jerusalem.)