Bethlehem in April
[ A report from Bethlehem by our old friend Delia Khano, an Englishwoman who lives in Palestine since 1930s, being married to a Palestinian. She penned a charming book of Palestinian oldtime stories (Khano, Delia. By Eastern Windows. Oxford, 1985])
By Delia Khano
Anyone who has not recently been to see the revered sixth century Church of the Nativity in Bethlehem would hardly recognise today’s approach to the little town. It seems that the checkpoint with its roadblocks, watchtower and offices is soon to be a welcoming and exclusive entrance for the Ultra-Orthodox Jews who wish to visit Rachel’s Tomb; and this rerouting will put many Bethlehemites out of business.
At present all other sorts and conditions of men and women, including foreigners, are thoroughly checked there coming and going; West Bank cars are not allowed past; and a visit to Jerusalem or Israel requires a very special permit, difficult to obtain.
The old Israeli promise of ‘freedom of religion’ is shown to be just a sop for the media, although Jerusalem is the lodestar for both Christian and Moslem Arabs. Worse, families are divided and sources of work cut off.
One would never think these embargoes would last into ‘peacetime’ but there is every indication that they will. A large tract of land to the south-east of the present checkpoint, about 250 metres square, has recently been taken, bulldozed and enclosed with a formidable fence, apparently to serve as the checkpoint for non-Jews, a carpark for taxis waiting for Arab labourers and others, lanes for queuing cars (it can take two hours to get out), and a new road which makes a detour past Rachel’s Tomb.
If we pass the present checkpoint without trouble or too much delay, it leads us to the inevitable roundabout in the midst of nowhere; and then comes the fearsome eight-metre high Wall. There is an opening in it and one may, as things are, just drive through it, but in future we understand it is only to be for the Orthodox going to Rachel’s Tomb, and for Patriarchs and Bishops of the western and eastern churches on Christmas Eve. Business for the many shops on this road is now at a standstill.
Apart from this gap, the Wall is complete on the northern side of Bethlehem, and it links up with the barrier coming south from Al-Azarieh (Bethany) and Abu Dis. This leaves two or three kilometres between the Wall and the Green Line, and we do not know if this land and its villages will be annexed to Israel or left as a sort of no-man’s-land. Bethlehem was the marketing town for these villages in former times.
The Bethlehemites on the north side of the town say already it is like living in a prison; when the Wall surrounds it completely it will indeed be terrible.
Tourism, which has been the main source of income in the Nativity town since the Crusades, is now in steep decline: its many adjuncts hotels, restaurants, museums, tourist agencies, the staff for all of these, guides, souvenirs including the centuries-old olive wood carvings, Palestine pottery, jewellery, embroidery and other handmade crafts - have all suffered critically. Bethlehem University graduates are exceedingly keen to work in tourism but, with Bethlehem almost eclipsed, they need to go to Jerusalem to find a job and hopes of a permit are dim.
It seems to be deliberate policy on Israel’s part to exclude Bethlehem: a Ministry of Tourism programme will not normally include it; and an Israeli tourist agent may tell his Christian pilgrims, ‘You should not go there: it is full of terrorists.’ I have been going to Bethlehem for forty-five years and I have yet to meet a terrorist or anything like one.
In fact Bethlehem is very quiet - unnaturally so: the people are surrounded by settlements, imprisoned by the checkpoint and the Wall and decimated by emigration. There was a time when the population was mainly Christian, but nearly 10% of the Christians have emigrated just since the year 2000. The character of the town began to change in 1948 with the influx of refugees from western Palestine, and a certain number of Hebronites came into the town since then; but there is nevertheless still a sort of Christian establishment.
A Christian community that came to Bethlehem as the result of persecution by the Turks are the Suriani or Syriacs whose language is Aramaic. Two of the families are rich: the others have very slender means. They saved up from the 1950s to have their own village or quarter, and in the early ‘60s they managed to buy ten and a half acres of land in the shadow of the Ecumenical Institute of Tantur. Their plans were approved in Jordan’s day, but not by the Israelis when they took over. Now the Israeli government is confiscating it to extend Gilo. The Syriacs not only receive no compensation, but they are being harried to pay large amounts of land tax. The drain of Christians is likely to accelerate, and an attractive people with a fascinating history to be dispersed to the Americas and Europe.
Frustrated in their every endeavor and severed from their mother city Jerusalem, with a Jewish sect preferred to the diverse millions for whom Bethlehem has special importance, the diaspora from Bethlehem could become a flood if conditions do not improve. But because some of the Israeli establishment would manifestly wish for just that to happen, perhaps the Bethlehemites will endure the siege conditions.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> A report from Bethlehem by our old friend Delia Khano, an Englishwoman who lives in Palestine since 1930s, being married to a Palestinian. She penned a charming book of Palestinian oldtime stories (Khano, Delia. By Eastern Windows. Oxford, 1985) |
