Equality within Difference:
The Story of Neve Shalom/Wahat al-Salam
by
Jesse Zerger Nathan
A Research Paper
Presented to the
Department of History
and the
Department of Bible and Religion
Bethel College
In Partial Fulfillment
Of the requirements for the Course
Social Science Seminar, History 482
and
Advanced Religious Studies, Bible/Religion 482
Mark Jantzen, Advisor
Patty Shelly, Advisor
North Newton, Kansas
April 2005
Table of Contents
Acknowledgements…...... i
Preface……………………………………...……………………………………….…...... iii
Introduction...... …………………...…………………...………………………….…...... 1
Part I: The Story
The Israeli-Palestinian Conflict: A Brief History...... …...... …...…….…...... 2
Neve Shalom/Wahat al-Salam: Background and Structure...... 9
Four Paths: A Historical Analysis of the Village
Numerical Parity and the Maintenance of Practical Equality...... 14
The Economics and Financing of Co-existence...... ………...... 23
Branching Out: Opening the Primary School to Area Villages...... 31
Tom Kita’in and a Community in Crisis...... 40
Further Discussion...... 48
Part II: The Philosophy
National Identities in Dialogue...... 51
A Certain Kind of Contact...... 53
Three Pillars: The Philosophical and Practical Dimensions of an
Inter-ethnic, Inter-faith Community
The First Pillar: The Exploring Identity, Encountering “The Other”....... 58
The Second Pillar: Primary Education for Peace ...... 63
The Third Pillar: A Center for Pluralistic, Spiritual Understanding...... 66
Judeo-Christian Theological Implications...... 68
Final Conclusions...... 72
Appendix A: Timeline...... 76
Appendix B: A Map of Neve Shalom/Wahat al-Salam...... 80
Bibliography...... 81
1
Acknowledgments
A project of this magnitude could not have been completed without the tremendous support of my community. This paper discusses the complexities and diverse experiences at one specific community, yet constant throughout this discussion is the underlying belief in the importance of community itself—as a source of hope, peace and, ultimately, support. My community—while not as intentionally defined as that of Neve Shalom/Wahat al-Salam—has provided me with an incredible amount of assistance and encouragement, and, in doing so gives me great hope as I seek to be a peacemaker. I am so thankful for this support. In trying to thank everyone one often leaves someone out, but I will try nonetheless.
Most basically, I simply could not have financed the trip to Israel/Palestine for the month of study at Neve Shalom had it not been for the generous donations of so many friends and family. I have been overwhelmed and humbled by the amount of support I’ve received and I cannot fully express my appreciation. Thank you.
While staying at Wahat al-Salam I was welcomed into the community routine, encouraged to talk to many diverse people and allowed to enmesh myself into the daily life of the village. It was all that a researcher could ask for. Thank you Abdessalam for your time and encouragement; Howard and Dorit for being so generous with your time and resources; thank you Kamil, Ilan, Daniella, Boaz, Shireen, Ariela, Nava, Ruth and Ety for giving me a chance to talk with you about the community. Thank you Raida for allowing me to observe your classroom, as well as giving me a chance to discuss my observations with you. Thank you to the hotel staff for your generosity and help those rugged, first few days. Ori, Noam, Chris, Heidi, Felix, Wissam and Judith, thank you for including me in your activities, hanging out with me, and taking the time to engage me on your ideas and perspectives. Thank you Bob and Michal for a wonderful Saturday afternoon of eating, shopping, walking the dog and playing games—and for access to your piano. Rita, thank you so much for helping arrange my place at the volunteer house, as well as for your engaging discussion about the village. Thank you Rayek for sipping tea with me at sunset, and, most of all, thank you Anne for a wonderful, adventurous ride (and discussion) on the way to Jerusalem.
I want also to thank so many people at Bethel College who have helped me along in this process. While it is impossible to complete such a listing, I do, in particular, want to thank Professors Patty Shelly, Mark Jantzen, Penny Moon and Duane Friesen for your guidance and support. You have taught me so much more than you will ever imagine, and you have helped me to find myself. For me, the four of you are teachers in the most important and inspirational sense of the word.
So many of my friends played key roles in keeping me going, especially during difficult times, and for all of their support I am deeply appreciative. The illustrious crew of dudes whom I live with—Jared Hawkley, Ian Huebert, Andy Gingerich, Henry Dick, Nick Schrag, Eric Stucky and Jesse Overright—have been a constant source of intellectual and creative stimulation. For this, as well as for being the people I have depended on most for friendship and the everyday supports of life, I thank you. Thank you Andy for being the best roommate I could ever have and for always being “Showbiz”—I could not have done it without you. Other friends—too many to fairly name off—have helped me in immeasurable ways, sometimes without even knowing it. I am so thankful for you all.
Since I first began my formal education, my family has provided me with a space in which any idea was acceptable for discussion—and in which questioning was never deemed dangerous. I am so thankful for the influence, guidance and support that has always come from my parents—Sandy Nathan and Kirsten Zerger—as well as from my siblings—Daagya, Jono and Josh. For all of the editing on this and many other papers, thank you. Most importantly, thank you for giving me my first and most lasting experience of what community ought to be.
Finally, this project could not have been completed without the faith and support of my best friend, Steph Long. Thank you, Steph, for being the center around which my life is grounded, for allowing me to search, discover and create while providing the love, friendship and companionship that keeps me going. I love you.
Preface
The human race stands on the brink of its own undoing. Daily we are bombarded with reports of disaster and despair, from global warming to global terror. Politics often seems empty and corrupt, symbolic at best. Organized religion is increasingly hijacked by fundamentalists seeking to advance an agenda rarely concerned with the welfare of the planet, let alone the welfare of most of the planet’s people. Despite the dawn of the Information Age, ethnic and racial divisions rooted in nationalist fervor have spawned appalling abuses of human rights globally. The United States—supposedly the ideal nation-state—preaches democracy abroad while curtailing civil liberties for its own citizens and ignoring the plight of thousands of its own poor, sick and isolated. Were every person on this planet to consume at the rate of the United States, the planet and its ecosystems would collapse—according to some commentators, this collapse has already begun.[1]
Our task as global citizens—in whatever vocation we work from—is therefore to strive in whatever way we can to reverse this seemingly inevitable spiral towards a disastrous future. I have come to believe that the most effective, practical and moral answers to most (if not all) the social, economic, political and religious problems of our times are rooted in nonviolence. It is this or else, in the words of Martin Luther King, Jr., nonexistence.
As nationalism continues to rear its bloody head and the nation-state grows increasingly disconnected from the daily lives of its citizens, a beacon of potential hope lies in the growing movement worldwide to re-embrace community.[2] In a multitude of forms, intentional and indirect, loose and rigid, community means a commitment to the clichéd, but ever important slogan: “think globally, act locally.” A concerted effort to rebuild community means rebuilding our society at a fundamental level—rebuilding it around a new set of priorities emphasizing nonviolent co-existence with our world, not the violent, competitive domination of the world that we see manifested around us so clearly. Rebuilding in this manner is an immense task; it will require nothing short of a paradigm shift.
Theology is, in many ways, the study of paradigms. It encompasses the totality of all stories—seeking to determine a pattern by which we can find meaning, and perhaps some hint of the Divine. History, on the other hand, is the story of change over time—and any historian knows that great change comes gradually, sometimes in the smallest, seemingly imperceptible increments. Studying history and theology, therefore, is more than an “objective” task for cool-headed scholars in classrooms and coffee-shops far from the “real” world. It is a task for each of us: to find the narratives that can help us envision great changes one story at a time.
The story of Neve Shalom/Wahat al-Salam is one of those stories. I will not idealize this small, hilltop village. It has its share of problems and controversies. It is not a utopia and the people have never striven for that unrealistic goal. Rather, the villagers of Wahat al-Salam seek humbly to create, through their intentionality and perseverance, a laboratory in which the possibilities of peace can be explored—a nonviolent response to the sea of violence swirling around them. Theirs is a beacon that can help us see hope in those seemingly abstract ideals of nonviolence and community, in a concrete, clearly applicable way.
I write this paper, therefore, not from any objective standpoint (for such objectivity is clearly a myth), but from my own personal interest in searching for alternatives to the road our world seems headed down. I am writing as a historian and as a theologian laden with all the biases and assumptions that my background and personal narrative bring to the table. Nonetheless, as part of the search for a common meeting point in the larger academic and general discussion of these issues, this paper is grounded in as fair and unbiased an analysis of the evidence as I can muster—a sort of humbly subjective attempt at objectivity, though certainly such an attempt is always imperfect.
In the end, I hope that this research results in more than a paper. I hope that reading this story reveals a painting set on a much larger canvass: a story about Neve Shalom/Wahat al-Salam? Yes. A story about peacebuilding in Israel/Palestine? Yes. But also, I hope, a story that leaves us grappling with the questions that these villagers have made a part of their lives—questions of how we practice and live what we believe. These questions are daunting, but as this village demonstrates, ultimately approachable. Indeed only if we begin approaching these questions will we ever also begin to find answers.
“Better to light a candle than to curse the darkness.”
-Chinese Proverb
1
Introduction
Few modern crises draw as much attention and intense confusion as the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. This complex conflict exists on numerous levels—as a religious dispute, a nationalist clash, a power struggle and a land conflict, to name the most common. Consistent throughout all of these dimensions, however, is the fundamental struggle between two peoples, two distinct histories and two colliding identities. Few groups have set out to address this confrontation between identities as a core element in this struggle. One such group is Neve Shalom/Wahat al-Salam,[3] which, translated, means “Oasis of Peace” in both Hebrew and Arabic respectively.
Neve Shalom is indeed an oasis surrounded on all sides by violence and religious strife, a village born in response to the pressing social, national and religious tensions between Israelis and Palestinians. The history of Wahat al-Salam, explored in the first part of this paper, offers a picture of a community grappling with issues both specific to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, as well as those more generally found among any group of people intentionally living in community. Four events or decisions in the community’s history define the story of this village: (1) the decision in the beginning years of the village to maintain an even fifty-fifty split between Arab and Jewish families in the community; (2) choosing in early in the community’s history to construct an economic infrastructure dependent on donations, with a minimal internal economy; (3) the 1990 decision to open its primary school to Arab and Jewish children from around the region, instead of keeping it solely a village school; and (4) the 1997 death of Tom Kita’in, the son of two community members and a soldier in the Israeli Defense Forces.
Within this historical framework, the second part of the paper explores the basis for the community’s past and current successes. Neve Shalom is guided by a philosophy that recognizes the need to maintain and affirm national, religious and ethnic identity, rather than submerging identity into the proverbial melting pot. The community has applied this loose philosophy and cultivated a community through an environment of sufficient daily cross-cultural interaction, interfaith understanding and inter-ethnic dialogue. This application is grounded in three pillars: (1) a School for Peace which brings together Arabs and Israeli Jews for “encounters”—challenging workshops that hope to facilitate dialogue between two identities, and thus plant the seeds for future co-existence; (2) a primary school that applies the lessons of co-existence and dialogue among children at a young age; and (3) a Spiritual Center that seeks to provide a place for inter-faith discussion and spiritual growth within the community. These three elements have successfully fostered peaceful co-existence at Wahat al-Salam. Additionally, these pillars offer an opportunity to explore the theological implications of witness through co-existence—and what the example of this community can mean for people of Judeo-Christian faith.
Part I: The Story
“The enemy of truth is very often not the lie—deliberate, contrived and dishonest—but the myth—persistent, persuasive and realistic.”
--John F. Kennedy
A. The Israeli-Palestinian Conflict: A Brief History
The historical narratives playing out in the minds of Israelis and Palestinians are inseparable from their particular perceptions of the present conflict. Likewise, the history of Neve Shalom cannot be understood apart from its historical context.
Roughly six million people inhabit Israel proper[4], with approximately eighty percent of the population identifying themselves as ethnically or religiously Jewish, fifteen percent as Muslim and two percent as Christian. The state of Israel defines itself as a “Jewish State” but also as a democratic nation.[5] Yet Israel/Palestine is today embroiled in a bitterly divisive conflict between two national groups—Israeli Jews and Palestinians (both Muslims and Christians).[6] Commentators, residents and scholars agree that one constantly encounters “mistrust, fear and anger everywhere,” from Palestinian voices expressing deeply felt oppression and disappointment, and Israeli Jews communicating disillusionment and “a growing wish for escapism.”[7] Inside Israel/Palestine the situation is locked in “stalemate,” between what some call “the existence of privileged and second-class citizens…perpetuated by state-backed discrimination against Arab citizens” on the one hand and the steady fear of terrorist attacks on the other.[8] Most observers, even ardent defenders of Israel as a Jewish State, acknowledge a certain degree of “preferential treatment” for Jewish citizens, extending into “all major aspects of social and political life, including schooling, health care, housing and land use.”[9]
The most recent manifestation of this polarized reality is the struggle known as the Second Intifada (Intifada means “shaking off” in Arabic), beginning in October 2000, after Prime Minister Ariel Sharon offended Muslims nation-wide with his visit to the Al-Aqsa Mosque, which stands on the site of the ancient Jewish Temple Mount. After the visit, in which Sharon brought armed Israeli Defense Forces onto the premises of the Mosque and generally ignored Muslim custom, Palestinians took to the streets, many perceiving it as an act of complete disrespect and domination. When Israeli police killed thirteen Arab demonstrators over a span of just a few days, violence exploded across Israel/Palestine.[10] Consequently, “Jews have all but disappeared from Arab towns and villages, Arabs have begun avoiding contact with Jews, and an atmosphere of anxiety has taken hold.”[11] In reality, this recent outburst of violence is the outcome of a clash that has been building between Jews and Palestinians for decades. Sharon’s inflammatory visit simply ignited the latest round of violence in a conflict that can be traced to the end of the nineteenth century.
Zionism, “the belief that Jews should have a state of their own,” emerged in late nineteenth century Europe.[12] Even before modern Zionism was fully articulated, however, settlement of Palestine by Jews had begun. By the 1860s, approximately 10,000 Jews lived in the Holy Land, with eighty percent of those residing in Jerusalem, the majority of them recent immigrants.[13] In 1862 Moses Hess wrote Rome and Jerusalem, declaring his Jewish “nationality” as tied “inseparably” with the Holy Land and Jerusalem. In 1878, a group of Jerusalem Jews established the first all-Jewish settlement in rural Palestine, called Petah Tikvah, which promptly collapsed due to infighting, crop failure and malaria. By 1882 it was largely defunct.[14]