“Papa, can we go back to that playground I already went to? The one with those lot of kids?”
That’s my son’s answer to the question of Palestinian textbooks. The playground he means is one in East Jerusalem, off of Nablus Rd. This is probably one of 6 we have been to so far in Israel. But it’s the only one in a predominantly Palestinian neighborhood. And it’s the only one he wants to go back to. Because, other than at his nursery school class at the Jerusalem Y, it’s the only place so far he’s seen real affection from other kids.
Why? Because it’s the only one where the other kids have reached out to him, been welcoming of him, taken care of him. It’s the only playground where other kids have asked him his name, shared their snacks with him, included him in their fun. Heck, it’s the only playground where he’s ever gone down a big tunnel slide. Ever. He won’t even do that with me or his mother at a playground at home, when his best friends have just gone down. But here, in East Jerusalem, a girl of about 10 named Tamara simply took him by the hand, climbed up the ladders with him (in some cases, she had to lift him to the top of the next landing), put him at the top of the slide, sat next to him and down they went.
Was he crying when he came down? Not at all – he just scanned the crowd to find us to tell us what he had just done. With one of the biggest grins he’s had since we landed halfway across the world from his home and his friends and everything else he knows.
Before I get into my thoughts on the meaning of all of this– what of the other playgrounds he’s been to? The ones in the German Colony, at the Monkey Park, in Sanhedria Park? They’re fine. These locales range from secular communities where the kids and parents look like those he’s used to at home (German Colony) to orthodox, Haredi communities (Sanhedria) where I am the only father around and neither the kids nor the moms look all that much like they do at home (that is, at least in terms of clothing). The playgrounds themselves range from mediocre to excellent in terms of equipment and cleanliness.
They’re fine. No bad stories (other than the bad fall he took in the German Colony – my fault), no run-ins, no over-arching metaphors to be wrung out of the experiences. Just average times at a playground, where no one pays much attention to the fact that he’s there or asks if he wants to join in a game or go down the slide together. Frankly, they’re just like playgrounds at home.
So the only one he has asked to go back to is the one in East Jerusalem. It’s the only playground that his mother and I spent any time talking about afterwards. Because it was idyllic, had the best equipment? Not totally – most of the kids seemed to be there without supervision, the place could have been a bit cleaner. But we knew from the moment we told Eli we had to go home that this was his favorite playground so far.
So what does this have to with the never-ending debate about Palestinian textbooks? We all know the basic contention, and how readily American Jews and American legislators are to cite it as an over-arching concern. (The most recent advocate being Hillary Clinton, probably still trying to run away from her appearance with Suha Arafat,the equivalent of 500 years ago). You can find “articles” and “resources” on the issue at any number of websites:
ADL, the Israel Project, Israel on Campus Coalition, and a group devoted to this issue entirely, Teach Kids Peace. (Although naming an overtly biased group “Teach Kids Peace” is probably worth a post on its own, my favorite of these is, as usual, the Israel on Campus Coalition. Its resource guide for students on the conflict suggests that textbooks are one of a small list of “Proven Pro Israel Sound Bites.” As usual with the ICC, Jewish college students are not asked to do research or learn anything for themselves – they’re only asked to regurgitate prescribed soundbites.)
Before I became a father, I had two traditional answers to the issue. First, does it really matter? That is, even if Bibi Netanyahu or Abe Foxman wrote the textbooks for kids in Gaza or Nablus, the fact is that when those kids would finish learning about the glory of Zionism or Israel in school, they would then still have to walk out into occupation. And see the worst of Zionism and Israel – settlers, soldiers, oppression.
That is, of course, if they can get to school at all. With the Separation Wall or checkpoints or closures or the economic plight of their parents, school may not be open or be an option. So when the real world around you says black, does it matter if your textbook says white?
Second, let’s assume Palestinian textbooks do teach some level of hatred. Are Israeli texts really that much better? Aren’t these kids subjected to a range of materials that teaches them only about Judaism, shows them borders of Israel that also do not respect the other side of the Green Line, about the majesty of military power and serving in the army, that often depicts Palestinians and Arabs in a derogatory manner.
(For what it’s worth, the best actual analysis of the issue I have seen is from Nathan Brown, now at Carnegie, although this was published some years ago.)
But those answers don’t usually carry the day; rather they usually get sent into the same round-and-round of most other controversial and difficult topics in this conflict. Frankly, I’ll admit that whoever decided to make Palestinian textbooks an issue hit upon a stroke of brilliance, so to speak. It has all the ingredients of great propaganda – a sensitive topic (kids), an easily-believed concept (that Palestinians/Muslims would teach hatred of Israel and Jews), and a subject about which 99.99% of the intended audience will have no way – or even interest — to refute the facts. After all, how many American Jews, or even non-Arab, non-Muslim Americans read Arabic or will ever visit a Palestinian school and pick up an actual Palestinian textbook? Even the people who don’t necessarily believe it will have trouble answering the claims – without going to a school in Tulkarem, how can anyone, even me, really refute the charges?
But here’s where my son comes in. Maybe his real-life answer, his feelings will mean more than any academic ones. Maybe if there are more answers like his, things might really change, because people could really start to see the truth – or at least what the truth could be.
Nearly all of the kids on that playground were school age, some as old as pre-teens. And true, they are being educated in Jerusalem, not in Gaza. But the argument should be the same – their society and culture exposes them to the hatred and anti-Israel sentiment that their cousins in Gaza or Hebron learn in school. And so their instinct upon seeing us should be hate, or at least fear.
And maybe they are a bit more used to seeing Jews (I’ll admit that our family is not that hard to pick out of a crowd), to seeing Americans than kids in Rafah. But if you were to believe the textbook hawks, then that shouldn’t matter. If they learn hate in school or at home, then the conclusion they leave you with is that that hatred should translate into real life. That the inclination of those kids should have been to push Eli down sooner than hold his hand. Or, at a minimum, they should have ignored him like the kids at Israeli playgrounds do.
If the mainstream community were 100% right about the impact of Palestinian textbooks, these kids should have shouted nasty things at me and my wife sooner than they ran over to us to ask our names and practice whatever else they knew in English. If they were right, I should have been worried when they asked where we lived, for fear of something bad happening to our place, rather than enamored of the fact that they were curious.
But as I have said, the reality was that the kids showed us, most importantly Eli, love and affection and interest. They wanted to see us again, wanted to know more (and okay, one wanted us to give her money).
So what does this mean? Thankfully, I have learned a thing or two so far from my kids. The main one is that if you want your children — or anyone else’s, for that matter — to act in a certain way, to think a certain way, you have to show that way to them first. Your every move has to exemplify what you want them to be. If you don’t want your child to be a bully on the playground, then you have to make sure to not show them what bullying is. Anywhere, anytime. If you want them to be kind to others, to understand the importance of respecting others, then not only do you have to teach that to them but also actually be kind to them and respect them. If you want them to be peaceful, you have to embody peace. (As much as humanly possible, anyway.)
That is what my son saw, that is what he understood – and I think, I hope, that is what he taught them. Those kids saw us coming to play with them, coming to share in their fun and joy. Not to condemn them, not to find out how much they hated us, not to demand they change. Not to take their fun or their childhood away.
So maybe that’s the answer – if you want to be sure the Palestinian textbooks don’t cause Palestinian kids to hate Israel, Jews, and the West, then go talk to these kids yourself. Play with them, smile with them. Show them humanity, for once, show them what Israel, Jews, and the West are supposed to be. Let them be kids. Teach them a reality that no textbook, positive or negative, could teach them.
My hunch is, no matter what those kids learned in school the day we were at the playground, what they told their parents, siblings, and other friends at night was that we were at the playground, that they took care of my son for a few minutes. And that he loved it.
Sound naïve? Probably. I have no doubt there is plenty of hate-filled teaching going on in the Palestinian Territories. No doubt adults are exploiting children for the purpose of inculcating them with hate-filled ideology. So maybe showing up and playing with them can’t counteract everything. Maybe it is naïve to think that real contact with real kids who really care about them could change their minds.
But it’s no more naïve than thinking they will change if someone writes yet another report condemning them, raises some more money to combat them, puts up another website with them dressed in jihadist garb. Haven’t we learned how naive it is to expect peace from conflict?
So I believe if you want them to change, do what my son did. Hold their hands and go down a slide. You never know what you’ll find at the bottom.
“Hold their hands.” I cannot think of a more powerful directive to heal our world. Our children see things so simply, so directly. We can learn from them. Thank you for this post.
Brad: Please email out a heads-up next time you post. I don’t check the website that often, and have really enjoyed your writings (as well as those of others).
I feel like I know less about the place and conflict the more I read. So, basic questions, I suppose my wife might know the answers to but I’ll ask anyways… what drew you to take Eli to East Jerusalem? Was it to expose Eli to Palestinian kids or just saw it as you were driving by? Is it hard to get to (checkpoints, etc…)? Easy to pick you out as Americans or Jews (I suppose Ashkenazi?)?
The children should be the first to learn peace, because at this rate it looks like they’ll be the first ones making it.
Isn’t it a bit ironic that your son wouldn’t have been able to visit that playground were it not for ‘67 and Israel’s occupying East Jerusalem?
That really is a perfect metaphor for this conflict. Thanks for sharing it in such an eloquent post.
If only we could leave it all in the hands of kids! It’s quite fascinating to me that the Palestinian kids, who I’m sure were pleased that you chose to come to their playground, were so responsive and reached out to you and Eli, whereas the Israeli kids were apparently neither curious about you as newcomers nor inclined to extend themselves in a friendly way.
When I was on the West Bank I found the children very delightful –sometimes (in a crowd) a bit “in your face” and overwhelming in their eagerness to talk to and be photographed by “the American lady with the camera” but essentially warm, charming, anxious to practice their four or five words of English, and very gracious about my lack of ability to speak Arabic. With the adults, however, it was often different. I spent a day in a small village near Ramallah with a Palestinian social worker who worked with disabled kids, accompanying her on her home visits. All the parents of the kids whose homes we visited were very lovely, serving me tea and pastries, etc. I had no idea how the social worker was explaining my presence to these families, but at the end of the day I asked her if she’d told them I was Jewish. She said, “Oh no, American is okay, but if they knew you were Jewish they would not let you into their homes.” I had the feeling that she was wrong — my guess is that Palestinian hospitality would have overcome any resentment or anger toward me as a Jew. But mostly I was sorry I had not clarified or discussed this with her beforehand, to emphasize to her that one of the reasons I was in the West Bank to begin with was to let the Palestinians know that not all Jews were Israeli occupiers. So it’s particularly gratifying to hear about your experience and to know that, as is often the case, children make it possible to build bridges where we, as adults, might otherwise fail.
Hi Steffi, Brad, et al.,
I just posted this on my Blog and it is only slightly relevant to Brad’s usual thoughtful insightful message. I wrote to Andrew to ask him whether it is appropriate for me to add such an article as a comment on someone’s post but I have not heard from him yet. If there is an objection based on net etiquette, please let me know.
Thanks
Ron
CHASM OF NEED IN NABLUS:
DID JEWISH PEOPLE IN BOSTON READ THIS ARTICLE?
WHAT DID THEY THINK?
by Ron Fox
http:judaismandisrael.blogspot.com
Do you ever wonder how those in the Jewish community can continue to so strongly Stand With Israel and not criticize the government of Israel? My impression is that they believe that: Israel needs to survive as a safe haven for Jews; that “the Palestinians” (the Arabs) want to destroy Israel; and that every murderous action of a Palestinian is simply part of this plan.
I thought of this when I read the front page article in the Boston Globe this morning “Charity Faces Chasm of Need on West Bank” by Thanassis Cambanis about the overwhelming effort of a charity in the West Bank city of Nablus to help those in need.
http://www.boston.com/news/world/middleeast/articles/2007/06/04/charity_faces_chasm_of_need_on_west_bank/
The story focuses on the efforts of abdul Rahim Hanbali , the chairman of the local “Zakat,” or Islamic Alms Committee, an apolitical charitable organization which receives contributions from believers of Islam who are supposed to contribute 2.5% of their income to charity. The Zakat distributes money to residents for food, education, healthcare, utilities and education.
According to Adly Yaish the Mayor of Nablus, seventy (70) percent of the residents of Nablus live below the poverty line. As I recall, the standard for determining poverty is income of $2.10 (American Dollars) per day.
The Palestinian Authority and the Nablus municipality can afford to do little more than keep electricity and water coming into the city and keeping roads passable while still owing a million dollars for Israeli utilities.
The Zakat has a budget of $1.2 million this year, down from $2 million last year. Keeping in mind that the population of the city of Nablus is 100,000 and the population of the Nablus area is 200,000, the organization could only provide $12 per person a year, not even enough to buy sugar and flour..
“Yusra Ridha Sawafta, 37, is a typical Zakat beneficiary. She lives with eight relatives in an almost completely unfurnished apartment in downtown Nablus, owned by her brother. The Zakat’s monthly grant pays for flour and rice. She and her nephews pick wild greens from the hill above their neighborhood to boil with their starch. ‘If the Zakat stops giving us money, we would only have God left to ask for help,’ she said.”
Employing the recently honored micro-loan approach, Hanbali has also built the Al Safa Dairy Plant which employs 76, provides cows for poor families, buys the milk, provides milk to schools and divides the profits between the Zakat and the dairy.
What are the causes of this poverty?
First is the economic boycott by the United States, Israel and others, the reaction by these countries to the democratic election by the Palestinians of Hamas.
Second is the fear that Palestinian Americans and others concerned about the treatment of the Palestinians in the West Bank and Gaza have that any donations might be in violation of US terrorism laws, certainly not the kind of impression that the current administration and Congress are willing to counter.
Third is the view of the government of Israel. “While most of the leaders of the Nablus Zakat, like Hanbali and the mayor of Nablus, are not members of any political party, they are known as religious men who support the same Islamist political philosophy espoused by Hamas. Israel considers the distinction semantic, often identifying Islamist ‘independents’ as Hamas activists.” It is inconceivable to me that the security forces of the government of Israel are not able to distinguish between those who pose a physical threat to Israelis and those working to improve the lives of Palestinians. The only justification for lumping those distributing food to the poor with Hamas “militants” would be a political decision either that all Palestinians are evil or that those Palestinians who are trying to improve the lot of Palestinians are a threat to the ultimate security of Israel that will come only when the West Bank is such a humanitarian disaster that all Palestinians will finally leave.
And the piece de resistance is that last week, 33 “alleged” members of Hamas including Adly Yaish, the Mayor of Nablus, were arrested by the government of Israel. Will the government of Israel publicize the charges against the Mayor of Nablus and what evidence it has that he is not only a member of Hamas but that he has been involved in some activity that is contrary to some law? And when will that information be released?
I wonder how many Jewish readers of the Boston Globe read this article. I wonder what their reaction is? Will they think that there is justification for keeping Palestinians unemployed? Justification for keeping them in poverty? Justification for keeping them hungry? Justification for jeopardizing their health because they can’t pay the utility bill for kidney dialysis? Justification for keeping Palestinian children uneducated?
I am not going to bother to include here the teachings of Judaism that I have attached to many of my previous posts about our obligations towards the poor, the hungry, the homeless, children, the sick, the elderly. The Jewish community knows our obligations when those affected are Jewish and, locally, when those affected are in the inner city.
The question is – do the members of the Jewish community here know the obligations Judaism imposes on us when those affected are Palestinians, especially when the governments of the United States and Israel bear responsibility for much of their suffering and have the ability to alleviate it?
Brad, you do have a wonderful way of humanizing these issues and you write very movingly about them.
You’re my favorite blogger!
There was a fascinating/depresssing/wonderful documenary focusing on the children of the conflict and meeting each other. It is called “promises” and you will be able to find it online I’m sure.
b
May I refer you to Marshall Rosengerg’s wonderful book Nonviolent Communication which can be used in your home as well as in the world.
I learned a new quote today-”Why do the nations so furiously rage together.” Handel’s Messiah
I go back and forth between the words of Barbara Ehrenreich following our last presidential election when she was asked what we can do, she said “start locally”. Then I go to the vast statement of Handel which talks about the nature of the beast. As I start to become overwhelmed by the problems I succumb to humor. To ward of the effects of my fatalistic view of civilizaton here is what I did. I sprinkled sea shells on the earth in front of my Western Ma. Berkshire home. At least when they dig us up, whenever that is, I will have totally confused the next civilization. Maybe they will “get it”. So, perhaps, if people do not get it now and we keep the flame going, someone will get it someday.
HI, Brad! Just discovered your site and your writing is wonderful.
Re: how Palestinian adults might respond to Jews in their midst, I’d like to recommend that you read this article about a retired American Jewish man who went to palestine to find out what was going on for himself. One line struck me: “Though desperation and poverty were pervasive, Henry was struck by the love he received: “It was at the Balata refugee camp, in the midst of about four of five Palestinian men. I revealed my Judaism to them and was welcomed instantly as a friend in Palestine…”
http://electronicintifada.net/v2/article7101.shtml
Also this article:
http://zope.gush-shalom.org/home/en/channels/archive/archives_shield_eng
I was a human shield by Israeli journalist Billie Moskona-Lerman , a crazy account of her 24 hours spent with some young peace workers in a Palestinian home near rafah’s border with Egypt, being fired on by the IDF all night.
“No way of defending yourself, nowhere to run to. At mdnight in Jamil’s home, facing the shooting tanks and feeling that these may really be my last moments, I decided to open my cards. I threw aside the instructions not to expose myself because of Hamas and Tanzim and all the others who may murder me at a moment’s notice. With a feeling of profound finality I suddenly said: “Ladies and Gentlemen, I must tell you the truth. I am an Israeli journalist from Tel Aviv. There was a moment’s silence, then Jamil smiled and started speaking in fluent Hebrew: “Welcome, Welcome, Ahalan Ve’sahalan [Arab greeting which became, part of colloquial Hebrew]. I lived for four years on Sokolov Street in Herzlia, I was the shawarma cutter in the Mifgash Ha’Sharon Restaurant. I have also worked on Abba Eban Street in Netanya and at the Hod Hotel in Herzlia Pituach. What I liked most was to eat cherry ice-cream at the Little Tel-Aviv Restaurant. Is it still open?” ”
And the last paragraph:
“It was at 7.30 that I went with Laura and Joe to stay the night in the house of Muhammad Jamil Kushta, the first house fronting the IDF position on the Egyptian border, an ill-fated house. There, in Jamil’s house under the ceaseless shooting, guns, missilies, rockets and only the devil knows what else, for four consecutive hours, truly feeling that these might be my last moments, I gambled and revealed my identtity as an Israeli from Tel_Aviv. Then I said that my own sons might be among the soldiers shooting at us, not knowing that I was there in the house they were shooting at, or it might be one of my sons’ friends who had visited my home. And that was the moment we started to look at each other and laugh. Three babies, two Americans, a Palestinian couple and an Israeli woman all sitting around a big bowl of salad, with bullets whistling through the air, we started to laugh. A laughter of despair, of apprehension, of relief at the human closeness which we suddenly found. I knew that with some luck I would get through the night and run for my life, but Jamil and Nora had no escape, that they were doomed to raise their three babies under live fire. And then Laura opened her mouth to reveal that she was Jewish too, and rather an observant Jewess too. And it turned out that the fiery Alice, the group’s “Jeanne d’Arc”, the Israel-hater, was Jewish too. “And the soldiers” said Jamil “they too are just 20-year old children who have to stand out there, alone in the dark, shaking, within the cold steel”.
We all agreed: life is short and human beings are silly creatures.”
I have read widely on the textbook controversy and, if you have the patience to read scholarly reports, etc., well, here goes…
Have you read the correspondence between Nathan Brown and the critics from CMIP? http://www.geocities.com/nathanbrown1/Response_CMIP.htmVery illuminating.
I wonder if you have ever read the following report, “The Myth of Incitement in Palestinian Textbooks, The Palestinian Ministry of Education and Higher Education
Response to Allegation against Palestinian Schoolbooks
8 June 2005″ ?
http://www.pcdc.edu.ps/myth_of_Palestinian_incitement.htm
You can read the whole report that article refers to, “A Study of the Impact of the Palestinian Curriculum,” commissioned by the Belgian Technical Cooperation at the end of 2004, here: (long PDF file)
http://www.pcdc.edu.ps/impact study report.pdf
and the evaluation of Palestinian Civic Education by Dr. Wolfram Reiss, University of Rostock, Germany, at the Conference on “Teaching for Tolerance, Respect and Recognition in Relation with Religion or Belief,” Oslo, 2-5 September 2004 (also referred to) here:
http://folk.uio.no/leirvik/OsloCoalition/WienerText0904.doc
Here is a Palestinian analysis of a series of 3 reports by the Israel-Palestine Center for Research and Information (IPCRI, funded by the US government:
http://www.pcdc.edu.ps/politicising_pal_ed.htm
The whole series can be read here:
http://www.ipcri.org/files/4&9report.pdf
Here are further links on the subject:
http://www.palestinemonitor.org/nueva_web/special_sections/text_books.htm
I can’t find a copy of Israeli Dr. Nurit Peled-ElHanan’s paper “The semiotics of ideology: a multimodal analysis of Israeli textbooks in history and geography with an emphasis on the depiction of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict”.
Here’s a Has’aretz article on it:
http://www.pcdc.edu.ps/eldar_on_textbook_incitement.htm
This is an interesting article on the controversy:
http://israel-academia-monitor.com/index.php?type=large_advic&advice_id=5067&page_data[id]=173&cookie_lang=en&the_session_id=07a3ebe765673eae6cadfceb94fcff76