Reflections from the Holy Land
Toolbox
Published: September 28, 2005
JERUSALEM — My tour guide good-naturedly took out a cigarette and handed it to the stranger. Bumming cigarettes isn't uncommon even among strangers, but Nadr, my guide for the day, was Palestinian. The man bumming the cigarette and wearing the yarmulke was Jewish. The two exchanged some pleasantries in Arabic or Hebrew, I'm not sure which, and then went their separate ways. It also wasn't lost on me that the encounter took place in front of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre inside the Old City.
Perhaps there is hope for peace in this troubled land after all.
Certainly the violence has abated here. I can't recall the last suicide bombing in Jerusalem or Tel Aviv, though it's been at least several months. Still, every time a bus came into view during my week-long stay, my thoughts turned to that prospect.
It's a good bet the Israeli pullout from the Gaza Strip, which was completed this month, had until last week's cross-border rocket attack, given even some of the most extreme Palestinian militants pause about the wisdom of striking out at their Jewish neighbors. But Palestinian officials have their challenges in reining in the militants and also bringing about economic and political stability to Gaza, which remains impoverished after decades of Israeli occupation following the Six-Day War of 1967.
In addressing the United Nations this month, Israeli Prime Minister Ariel Sharon pledged aid to Gaza and again to the creation of a Palestinian state. The devil, however, is in the details, which so far has eluded acceptance from the parties involved.
Nadr, my affable guide who grew up inside the walls of the Old City, remains an optimist. He said he teaches his young daughter tolerance for all religions. Yifat, my friend who works as an attorney in Israel's Ministry of Justice, is of the same mind set. I have no doubt she'll teach her infant son that same value.
And while the images of angry Arabs railing against the United States are often a staple of the evening news, Americans — even in this Arab section of the city where I stayed — are treated well. Venturing out for a walk at night from the American Colony Hotel along dimly lit Nablus Road wasn't a problem.
The only confrontation of sorts I had was on the Mount of Olives one afternoon with a man who tried to sell me a large laminated photo of Jerusalem. When I politely declined, he barked: "Don't you like Arabs?" I assured him I didn't have anything against Arabs. It was tacky souvenirs I didn't like.
*******
The grey concrete memorial is a stark reminder of what happens when a civilized nation loses its collective mind while the rest of the civilized world looks on and does nothing.
Yad Vashem is Israel's memorial and museum to the 6 million Jews who died in the Holocaust. Situated on a hill overlooking this city that is the crossroads for three religions, it is an impressive and somber place that looks back at what took place 60 years ago when the Nazi killing machine and its accomplices attempted to wipe out an entire race.
In black and white photos, newsreel footage and oral histories, the museum traces the rich history of the Jews of Europe, Hitler's rise to power in the 1930s and his unabashed hatred of the Jews, blaming them for Germany's ills — fanning the flames of anti-Semitism in a country and a continent with a long history of anti-Semitism. What followed next was a ratcheting up in violence: from the boycott of Jewish businesses, book burnings, beatings and the burning of synagogues to the "final solution" — the gassing and burning of human beings.
But Yad Vashem ("a monument and a name") is also about justice and hope. Many of those responsible for the genocide of the Jews of Europe were brought to justice — many through the decades-long efforts of the late Simon Wiesenthal, the former civil engineer turned Nazi hunter who refused to allow the world to forget the crimes of the perpetrators. Others have also taken up Wiesenthal's cause, most notably Serge and Beate Klarsfeld of Paris, who helped bring the notorious Klaus Barbie to justice.
Not everyone turned their backs on the Jews of Europe. Yad Vashem honors the Righteous Among the Nations — the more than 22,700 non-Jews from 40 countries who often risked their own lives to hide or help Jews escape certain death in the concentration camps. Among those honored are Oskar and Emilie Schindler of Germany ("Schindler's List") and one American, Varian Fry, who helped smuggle hundreds of Jews out of France.
One day this month, hundreds of visitors, both young and old, Jew and non-Jew, came through Yad Vashem to pay their respects and to learn. It is an eternal reminder to the world that it "should never forget."
Bruce Edwards is the business reporter for the Rutland Herald.
13