All in all, it’s just another brick in the . . .

Wall. Well, because we haven’t thought about that in at least 2 weeks. The Winograd Report findings were published two weeks ago and are currently dominating the media. That is, in addition to the university and college student strike, which hits its five-week mark today. That is, along with the forty-year anniversary (either a celebration or day of mourning depending on your point of view) of Jerusalem’s reunification, for which most European and US officials refused to attend ceremonies. That is, in addition to the violence in the Gaza Strip between Fatah and Hamas, which continues, with over 40 killed in just the last 3 days. And, last but not least, alongside over 30 kassam rockets hitting Sderot and the surrounding area, bringing an Israeli Air Force response of the bombing of Hamas’ operational headquarters in the Gaza Strip.

So, as one can see, perhaps the Separation Fence, has moved down—if only temporarily—on the list of “hot topics” for the media to report.

But, if only in my little corner of political ranting and raving, I am choosing to write about it today. After all, what better day than today, when I not only saw it while walking through the park near my house but also from the other side, an occurrence which happens less frequently.

Today, I visited Gush Etzion. Like my map, or not, I just chose it for ease’s sake. In any case, I visited Efrat, Bat Ayin, and Kfar Etzion (3 of the 21 settlements/communities which comprise Gush Etzion, or the Etzion Bloc). We spoke with the mayor (or head of the “city” council), and let’s just say that I learned a lot—among other things about human nature, the strength of ideology, and the everyday “reality” (what I may call “fear”) of living in Judea and Samaria (aka, the “West Bank”).

For some time now, the Separation Fence has lost the ideology of “being only a security measure.” While that was its original purpose, it became clear very quickly, once its route was moved from the Green Line (1967 borders) eastward, that people were starting to think about the future—i.e. that this wall was not just a security measure but rather a future border. And if this becomes the border, well, let’s just say, you don’t want to be on the wrong side. While most of the media we, on “our side of the wall,” hear about the Separation Fence is its infringement on the human rights of Palestinians, I learned something today—every Gush Etzion resident we spoke to today does not want the wall, not just on its current building-path, but rather not at all. I’ll be honest and say that I never really thought about how the settlers in the West Bank felt about the wall. I guess I just assumed that they wanted “us” (Inside the Green Line folk) to include “them” (Outside the Green Line folk) when planning it, making certain that the Jewish settlements north, east, and south of Jerusalem would remain connected to the state of Israel.

Among the reasons intimated to us were the following:
1) They don’t feel it will improve security. (I, as a Jerusalemite who is able to live more safely largely due to this wall, feel differently.)
2) The havoc it is already wreaking on the ecological environment, including forests, animals, and nature reserves. (This is something that speaks to my granola roots.)
3) The human rights violations of both the Jews and the Palestinians in the area that are already being caused or will be caused by a wall of this nature.

Where do I find myself, then? Stuck somewhere in the middle, I think. I guess I’m enough aware of the reality of a state’s need to provide its citizens with security to realize that leaving “borders” completely open is not the best idea. Then again, the path the wall has taken has left numerous people cut off from their families, sources of income, and proper medical care. I guess I’m enough aware of human rights and morality to know that this is also not acceptable. So, what’s the verdict? Well, let’s talk, first, about how we arrive at one.

What I learned today about human nature is that if you believe in something enough, perhaps it makes it easier for you to deal with the contradictions and conflicts to which you are a daily witness. If I believe enough in the State of Israel as the home of the Jews, as a nation-state, as an entity with which we cannot live without—then the human rights abuses you see in front of your eyes (which may not bother me or may deeply bother me) can be viewed as a "necessary evil."

Does that make me a heretic, then? That I am not willing to give up on human rights for all, on citizenship rights (whether they be Israeli or otherwise) for all? Does it make me less Jewish, or simply more democratic? Does it make me "left wing," or simply humanitarian-minded? Does it mean I'm "looking for trouble," or simply that I'm paying attention?

Don't answer these questions; I'm working on them meanwhile.

Next installment (to come after our next field trip): The Wall--A view from the north (i.e. Kallendia)