This letter is part 2 of a series of letters I recieved from a friend that is spending the Christmas season in Israel.

Good morning!

I received a couple emails wondering what I meant when I spoke of the Wall being “porous” enough to get through in some areas. That doesn’t mean Israel is using a different material along certain stretches that might make it easier to penetrate. It only means that the Wall isn’t yet complete, and the shorter temporary barriers still make it possible for people to enter and leave Abu Dis and Bethlehem without passing through checkpoints. For the Palestinian people who don’t have one of those coveted blue cards that give them the right to work or to engage in business in Israel proper, checkpoints aren’t an option. These temporary barriers offer them the only opportunity to earn any kind of income outside their walled ghettos. In many Palestinian territories, the unemployment rate (even in the Israeli Arab city of Nazareth!) has risen above 90%. Consider the panic we get in the United States over a 6% unemployment rate. Without a blue card Palestinians can’t enter the central corridor of Israel; they are restricted to the occupied territories, where there aren’t sufficient trade opportunities to warrant having any significant level of industry. So the Palestinians farm the small plots of dirt behind their homes or on their rooftops and drop their produce over the parts of the Wall that are still possible to cross so that they can sell it in the public street markets in Jerusalem. There every face is anonymous, and no one asks about blue cards.

“When in Rome ….” I think about that saying a lot while I’m over here. When in Palestine, do what the Palestinians do. Clearly, I had to pass through the Wall the way they do so that I could sense their pressure, the fear of getting caught doing what they should have every right to do. So I found a hole and sneaked through it. My agenda for the day was to ascertain just how wide an area Israel had given the Palestinians of their old community. So I walked from the “hole” in the Wall in East Jerusalem through Bethany and to the Wall on the other side of the hill in Abu Dis. It took me twenty-eight minutes. Now I admit that I have a pretty quick gate, but there isn’t a road in this region that is straight or flat. Flat? I felt like a mountain goat most of the time! Twenty-four minutes is all it took me to traverse this enclosed section of Palestine from wall to wall—pretty much the extent of what Israel is willing to give up of “Greater Jerusalem.” It is a long finger or ridge down the eastern slope of the Mount of Olives. Israel has claimed all the rest for itself. I can tell you that it would take me hours to traverse Israel’s portion of “Greater Jerusalem” from boundary to boundary. It looks to me as if it will soon annex the entire eastern slope downward to Jericho. All the Arabs within that territory will be given two options: either they can leave the region and move to one of the walled ghettos we will call Palestine or they can petition for Israeli citizenship. Most will probably opt for Israeli citizenship. The major downside, besides giving up their perceived national identity, is that Israeli Arabs are not permitted to serve in the military. Why’s that a bad thing? Israeli policy permits employers to deny employment to anyone who has not served in the military. That means Israeli Arabs will always be second class citizens, at least as it pertains to the job market. That’s why the major Israeli Arab city of Nazareth has 91% unemployment. It is an Arab city, so none of its inhabitants have served in the military and the vast majority of them have been denied employment on that basis.

Okay, it hasn’t all been fun and games for me here. I have done some serious work too. I have maintained a relationship with the Sisters of Charity (Mother Theresa’s mission) in the Old City. So, when they heard that I was back in town, they hunted me down to play their Santa Claus. Those of you who know me well know that this kind of display stretches my comfort zone a bit. It didn’t turn out to be all that bad for me. The children loved it, and I fell in love with them; so all is well with the world. I have often said that I aspire to come back as Santa in my next life any way. “It’s beginning to feel a lot like Christmas” read the words of a popular Christmas tune. The threat of snow in the forecast and the delight on these children’s’ faces push aside the constant reminders of the Palestinians’ plight for a few glorious minutes.

Peace to you all in this Christmas season,

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