The picture at the bottom does not belong to the article, I added it as a Christmas card. I hope everybody's holiday was better than those they have in the ghettos of Palestine.
By Mary Ann Weston
Published December 24, 2006
Published December 24, 2006
"And it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus, that all the world should be taxed.... And Joseph also went up from Galilee, out of the city of Nazareth, into Judea, unto the city of David, which is called Bethlehem, (because he was of the house and lineage of David); to be taxed with Mary, his espoused wife, being great with child. And so it was, that, while they were there, the days were accomplished that she should be delivered. And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn."-- Luke 2:1-7
The beloved words of the Nativity story evoke reverence and awe. But a recent visit to Bethlehem left me wondering: If Mary and Joseph traveled to Bethlehem today, would they get in? Would they make it to the manger, or would the holy child be delivered at an Israeli checkpoint?
The city of Christ's birth is now partially surrounded by a wall, much of it 25 or more feet high, an unbroken expanse of solid, gray concrete, a medieval city wall updated with 21st Century cameras and razor wire. The wall snakes through Bethlehem and the nearby countryside, separating farmers from their fields, workers from their jobs and families from their neighbors.
The wall around Bethlehem is part of an Israeli security barrier designed to separate occupied Palestine from Israel. The government says it is being built to increase Israeli security and stop suicide bombings.
But instead of following the Green Line--the 1949 armistice line between Israel and the Occupied Palestinian Territories--it snakes deep into the Palestinian West Bank. Palestinians call it a land grab.
The wall effectively annexes Israeli West Bank settlements, although they are considered illegal under international law. The settlements are fast-growing Israeli enclaves built on Palestinian land, their close-packed dwellings marching up once-forested hillsides like monochromatic Lego blocks. Bethlehem is surrounded by 27 settlements containing 73,000 people, according to Open Bethlehem, a local advocacy group. The settlements are connected by bypass roads that are off limits to Palestinians.
The wall and other Israeli restrictions on movement have made Christian and Muslim areas of the West Bank such as Bethlehem virtual ghettos.
Once, Bethlehem was easily accessible from Jerusalem. Now, for Palestinians, it's an ordeal of checkpoints, with their prison-style walkways covered with wire mesh, multiple turnstiles, baggage X-rays, metal detectors and document scrutiny. On any given day no one can predict when or even if he or she will be allowed to pass. It's a cruel roulette in which Palestinians gamble daily on getting to work or school on time, or getting a sick child to the hospital.
Foreign tourists see little of this from their buses on the way to Manger Square. These visitors get only a glimpse of a city withering under Israeli occupation. Tourism, traditionally Bethlehem's economic mainstay, has dropped dramatically. The Christian population, which was 80 percent in 1948, is now less than 20 percent. Christians traditionally have been among the more prosperous citizens, those with means to move elsewhere.
Less fortunate are residents of the Aida refugee camp in Bethlehem. On a recent visit to the camp, my companions and I climbed to the roof of an apartment house. Here we could see over the wall to a lush olive grove on the other side. "That was a park for the children from the camp," said Ayed Alazzeh, who runs the Lajee Center, a recreation and educational center in the camp. Now the wall makes the olive grove, which belongs to a local church, inaccessible to the children.
In December Alazzeh's 12-year-old nephew was shot and seriously wounded while playing on the balcony of his home. The shots came from Israeli soldiers manning a guard tower on the wall nearby, Alazzeh said.
The reality of life in Bethlehem today confounds the traditions of the Christmas story: How could the shepherds, abiding in their fields beyond the wall, visit the Christ child? And what about the Magi? Would they have the proper travel documents to enter Bethlehem? Would their gold, frankincense and myrrh be confiscated at a checkpoint? In the troubled "little town" of Bethlehem, the angels' song of "Peace on Earth" seems faint indeed.
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Mary Ann Weston is associate professor emerita at Northwestern University's Medill School of Journalism. She visited Bethlehem with a delegation sponsored by the American Friends Service Committee and Interfaith Peace-Builders.
Copyright © 2006, Chicago Tribune
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