Uprooting the Olive Tree

by Lloyd Philip Johnson

  “Even if you could solve all these problems, how about your children?” Fatima winced as Saleh brought the far off idea of children. “You have to consider these issues before you move ahead. Who would they be? Whose would they be? What community would they attach themselves to? Would they belong to either or even know themselves who they are?”

  Fatima felt herself wilt like a rose starving for water. She sank in her chair and looked at Sami, who seemed composed and nodding.

  “You raise excellent questions that we do need to consider, and will as time goes by if we can continue to see each other,” Sami replied. “Fatima has never left her Muslim culture, and I wouldn’t ask her to do that. Ever. But there is one more important area of our lives that we haven’t discussed. That is our faith in God as we know him through Jesus. I know you respect him and how Fatima has blossomed while becoming part of his family as well. And I think very highly of your letting her study at the Bible College to grow in her faith. While we may differ in religious practices, we all are loved by God. We are free to choose to respond to that love or not, and that may or may not result in mosque or church affiliations. The fact that you do not attend a mosque for frequent prayers may make it easier for you and Fatima to accept that she can be a bridge between the two communities. Perhaps God is calling her to bring people of different backgrounds together. And that this opportunity to serve God far outweighs any difficulties that we could have in relating to people from either group, Muslim or Christian. I believe if he is leading Fatima and me to love each other and to see where the relationship goes, that he will lead us also in bridging the gap between our two religious groups. Just as in dealing with Israelis, let’s build bridges, not walls.”

  Sami took a deep breath and sat back in his chair. Fatima stared at Sami with tears in her eyes. She had never heard what was in her heart articulated so well. She looked at her parents, both seemingly fixed on their empty dinner plates. Saleh began to nod, and placed his chin on his fist, elbow resting on the table. Fatima recalled the sculpture, “The Thinker.” But what were his thoughts?

  CHAPTER 72

  Uri leaned over to chat with Jamal who sat with him at the plaintiff’s table in the Supreme Court. Jamal noticed the building itself symbolizing justice for all, integrated into the courtroom with its high ceilings and carved stone walls. The judges had not arrived, and the room buzzed with muted conversations of lawyers, their clients and spectators. Jamal stiffened in his chair as Uri described how he lost his position in the coalition Cabinet after representing the Zubuda family in their land eviction case.

  “Then it didn’t help that I voted against sending ground troops into Gaza.”

  “But you’re still in the Knesset, aren’t you?”

  “For the time being, yes.” He raised his hands. “But that may end with the next election because now I have another problem, and even if Likud were to win, they would probably not appoint me to one of their seats in the Parliament.”

  “Why is that?” Jamal asked.

  “Because I tried to stop a group of settlers and the IDF from taking over an apartment in Silwan. Then Carmella got involved and I ended up in the hospital.”

  Jamal stared at Uri. “How did you happen to be there?”

  “We were guests of Ashley and Najid and saw a crowd gathered in front of their building.” He continued telling the story of that night in Silwan. As he finished he clenched his teeth. “I can’t go on supporting our injustices, Jamal. They will destroy us eventually. For the sake of our country and its people, we have to look at what we are doing to a captive population. The Gaza operation that right now is killing hundreds of civilians, the imprisoning of kids like Ali and the attempt to confiscate land like Faisal’s today. We’re losing our way, our conscience, our sense of what is right. The world is against our behavior, but we persist and call any dissent anti-Semitism.”

  Jamal gave Uri’s arm a squeeze. “You have changed!”

  “Blame it all on Najid and Ashley. They started all this by giving me back my life. You can’t go through a near-death experience and come out without stopping to think. And now I’m seeing this conflict from both sides of the wall.”

  Uri was interrupted by the bailiff’s shout. The three judges entered and took their seats.

  Jamal took a deep breath as Uri arose for his closing argument. He approached the high bench and looked at each of the three judges for what seemed like at least a full minute. He then began softly.

  “Your honors, you all know the laws and precedents that have for years here in Israel justified our appropriation of land in the territories. In some cases you have resisted these attempts based on irrefutable evidence of ownership, or for other reasons. I could cite these as precedents but you are aware of them as well. So let me focus on just one question: What is the right thing to do?”

  Uri grew silent again, gazing at first one judge, then another. He began to tell the story of Faisal and Almas, farmers of many years growing olives and fruit productively, first hindered by the fence dividing house and orchard, then injured severely by a bulldozer threatening his beloved trees.

  “Faisal has done nothing wrong in trying to save his farm. The couple have no other source of income. Their small orchard of forty dunhams is insignificant compared to the size of the settlement on the hill above them that attempts to confiscate their land. The heavy equipment set to uproot hundreds of mature bearing trees has been stalled first by mechanical breakdown, and then by the thirty day injunction, now nearly finished.

  “What is the right thing to do? Take their land because our government is determined to gain more of the West Bank land and drive out its people? Or because this older couple are a threat to us? Or because we want to expand our illegal—yes let’s use the term settlements—at their expense? Or take it because we can find legal justification based on laws we created? Or because they refuse to sell their land?

  “What is the right thing to do? Put yourselves in this couple’s shoes. They will lose the efforts of at least twenty years of hard work to build their orchard to a very productive farm. They will be confronted with nothing to sustain them in their home during the remaining working lifetime, or beyond in retirement. They have no children to support them in years to come. Nowhere to go. Cut adrift at the time of life when we all look forward to reaping the benefit of years of hard work.”

  Uri stood before the judges again in silence, for at least two minutes. “I ask you again, what is the right thing to do?” He turned and walked back to the table and Jamal.

  The defense counsel rose. “I outlined the laws of our country regarding the rights of the State to use land reverting to it. You have those complete documents in hand that I summarized one month ago. I have nothing further to add since this is a legal not an emotional matter.” He sat down.

  The courtroom remained hushed. Finally, the woman judge spoke. “Seeing no further questions from my colleagues, the court will issue its decision within the week. It stands adjourned.” She banged her gavel, the judges filed out as everyone stood until they disappeared through the chamber door.

  Jamal congratulated his colleague on the closing argument. “You did well to go beyond the points of so many old laws to look at the right thing to do.”

  “Now all we can do is await their decision.” Uri shook Jamal’s hand and left.

  ***

  Faisal walked with his crutches to the ringing telephone. He used them to take weight off the injured leg, but seemed to be improving every day. It helped to see some progress in a long rehabilitation. “Asalam alekum.”

  “Yes, Faisal, and peace to you and Almas. This is Jamal reporting.”

  “How did it go?”

  “Mr. Katsman did very well on your behalf.” Jamal went on to describe the final hearing in the Supreme Court.

  “So it really hinges on whether you use all the made-up laws to allow land takeover, or concern yourself about the greater issues of justice and right or wrong?” Faisal
asked.

  “Yes, that is the way Uri Katsman framed it, Faisal. The state’s case rests on the fine points of laws that go back to Ottoman times where all the colonial powers, Britain, Jordan and now Israel do whatever they want. If you use these laws and precedents, you can justify any land grab. That’s the ugly truth about colonialism where one side has all the power.”

  “Do you think we have a chance of keeping the farm?”

  “It all depends on the judges of course, whether they stand on their laws and decisions of the past that enabled ethnic cleansing over many years. Or, do they look into their own hearts for the answer? I hope they heard that eloquent plea for justice.”

  CHAPTER 73

  The call to Ashley and Najid came unexpectedly from Ariel Friedman, inviting them to dinner at his parents’ home in West Jerusalem. “It will be a chance for all of us to get together again. You know—the team that went to the United States. It’ll be a special occasion.”

  Ashley closed her eyes suddenly re-living the experiences of the group that shared their experiences of forgiveness and reconciliation in Jerusalem and in major cities of America. Even in the Senate Foreign Relations Committee.

  She motioned to Najid to come close so he could hear Ariel.

  “You’re inviting your enemy roommate too?” Nijad called into the phone.

  “Yeah, Najid, Sami plans to come. I hope he’ll behave all right.”

  Najid laughed. “I’ll come with Ashley to help keep my little brother in line.”

  ***

  After dinner Shiran Friedman invited their guests to the living room with their tea or coffee. Ariel’s mother seemed more relaxed to Ashley, and not so thin. Yaron turned to his son.

  “I’d like to hear a bit of your lives now,” Ariel said. He looked toward Sami.

  “Just at the university as usual. But I did meet a girl, the one I mentioned last time at the dinner here with your girlfriend.”

  “In Haifa?”

  “She’s in Bethlehem, so she can’t come here to Jerusalem. But I can go there.”

  “Tell us more,” Ariel coaxed.

  “No, it’s all up in the air right now. Like an apple on the tree. Will it fall to me or not? I don’t know.”

  Ashley could see Sami was uncomfortable talking about Fatima.

  “Well, my old enemy,” Ariel said, “if you need any help on how not to do this, let me know. I just broke up with my girlfriend at Hebrew University after class yesterday.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that, Ariel. I liked her.” Ashley then turned toward Mustafa. “Are you still drumming in the band down in Sderot?” Ashley asked.

  “Yes, I am. But I have some good news. Maisara and I are engaged to be married.”

  “Oh, Mustafa! We are so pleased. You look happy, like a new man.”

  “I am, Ashley. I will have a family again. She is a teacher in Sderot, and a wonderful lady.”

  Ariel looked at Najid. “How about you?”

  “We got married after you flew home from America, in Oklahoma City. Then we came here and got involved with several people. One is a soldier in the IDF who arrested a ten-year-old boy out of his bed one night. We knew each other in school long ago. Over time we got together, and Gilad, like Chaim here, decided he could no longer do the things the IDF required of him. He’s now in jail. And I have here a letter from him to the boy and his family in Bethlehem. Obviously he cannot go there personally. He said I could share it before giving it to them. I’ll read just one paragraph: What I did to you I will never forget. I am so sorry. But I am learning about forgiveness, and I ask you to forgive me. When I get out of jail, I want to work with other former soldiers to let the world know what we in the IDF are doing to make life very bad for Palestinians. To make it stop.”

  “That brings up the main reason for getting us all together again.” Ariel turned toward his cousin Chaim in civilian clothes who sat holding hands with his wife Gavriella. “We want to honor this couple for making a difficult decision, which is costly. Bring us up to date, Chaim.”

  “I think you know that I signed a letter with other officers that I would never again obey orders to fire on civilians. That was after I had killed Mustafa’s totally innocent family. So at first I was re-assigned to the Negev to train troops to work with helicopters. But a general called me in and wanted me to recant, to take my name off the letter and agree to obey orders whatever they required. He gave me a week to think it over and threatened future trouble for me if I refused.”

  “So what did you decide?” Ashley asked.

  “Like Gilad, Najid’s friend, I could not continue assaulting civilians. So I told the general I would not change my decision.”

  “So what has happened?”

  “I’ve been dishonorably discharged from the IDF. I’m now a civilian with a mark against my name.” He shrugged, looking at Gavriella.

  “Chaim did the right thing,” she said. “He couldn’t live with himself if he recanted. He could never go back to destroying people and homes. Just like Gilad. The two of them got better acquainted by phone.”

  Mustafa walked over to Chaim who stood up to receive his bear hug and a kiss on both cheeks. Both had watery eyes and could say nothing.

  “What will this mean for you?” Ashley asked Gavriella.

  “At least he’s not in jail,” she said. “But it means he has no benefits coming from his ten years in the Israeli Air Force. And a dishonorable discharge, not the best way to go into civilian life.”

  “Will you be able to find a job, Chaim?”

  “I’m not sure, Ashley. I’ll be testing the market soon, but right now I need to work on transitioning to be home every day. Gavriella’s not used to having me underfoot. But the kids like me being home with them. She could always get a job in a law firm with her smarts.”

  “We wanted you all to know what has happened to Chaim and Gavriella since you are family to us,” Ariel said as he stood, raising his glass. “So I propose a toast to them for their courage in standing up for what is right. And taking the consequences. May they do well whatever happens, and here’s to their example and that of others like them, to stop this ugly oppression and military occupation.”

  Everyone lifted their glasses with shouts of “L’chaim!”

  CHAPTER 74

  Uri sat listening to the debate in the Jerusalem legislature, the Knesset, as his Likud Party members defended the Gaza ceasefire proposal from the militant right-wing Home Party who wanted Gaza obliterated. All members attended and the air fairly crackled with tension. The more liberal members had wanted the Gaza operation stopped earlier. The Prime Minister appeared nervous trying to placate both sides at once, and hang on to preserving his coalition and government. Uri watched now feeling a bit detached from the political heat after all he had been through. It would be funny if not for the carnage of a war that seemed so futile. Sixty Israelis killed, almost all soldiers, and twenty-two hundred or more Palestinians, men, women, and children in Gaza. Schools, hospitals, homes, and relief agency buildings destroyed in massive numbers.

  After some tense debate, the prime minister rose to speak.

  “I have listened to the views of both sides,” he began. “I have tried to steer a moderate course between those who want to bomb Gaza to oblivion, and those who want us to completely change our policy, lift the blockade and all restrictions of trade and travel. I have pursued a moderate course to defend our country from the enemy who would destroy us with his rockets and tunnels. We have killed many militants and destroyed their command and control facilities. We have successfully defended ourselves with Iron Dome so only three of our civilians have died. The enemy uses children to defend their rockets. We use our rockets to defend our children.” Shouts of affirmation punctuated the prime minister’s speech.

  “Hamas wants to throw us into the sea. We must fight them to the end. They must not unify their party with Fatah. It would make it more difficult for us to have them speak with one voice to the world. We
will do everything to prevent that from happening. And we will rely on our American partner to protect us from any unfair vote in the Security Council of the United Nations. We will insist that they continue to vote against recognition of a Palestinian State as has already occurred in the General Assembly. We continue to reject the decisions of any international courts. We don’t recognize them. We are not subject to any pressure to change what we are doing to preserve this wonderful land of Israel that the Divine gave us three thousand years ago from the sea to the river.

  “If you agree with our position, I ask for your vote of confidence by agreeing to enter into discussions for a cease fire to prevent any further loss of life for our defense forces. Thank you.”

  He sat down to vigorous applause by his Likud Party members only, and half-hearted clapping by others in the parliament.

  Uri sat on his hands shaking his head. How could he vote with the prime minister? And yet he wanted the war stopped. He’d have to vote yea.

  ***

  After leaving his office, Uri met Carmella nearby. As they drove home in their new Mercedes, she spoke.

  “How did it go? Did the prime minister get his vote for a cease-fire?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Did you vote with your party?”

  He laughed. “I’m not a party hack anymore, but yes I did. I want this madness in Gaza stopped. It can’t go on. We are a pariah in world opinion already. Do we want to make it worse?”

  “Do you realize how much you have changed?”

  “Speak for yourself, my dear wife. You have too, although you didn’t have so far to go.”

  “Since this all began with your accident and the help of Ashley and Najid,” she replied, “how about dropping in on them now before dinner? I’ll bring the bottle of wine I just bought. I’m curious to know what has happened since you bullied the soldiers into submission.”