In Perfect Harmony:
Cultures, Dialogue and the Heart
A Middle and High School Curriculum Companion

Written by:
Lisa Adeli, University of Arizona Center for Middle Eastern Studies
Bryan Davis, M.Ed
Jonel Lauver, Safford Middle School
Carole Marlow, Safford Middle School

In Perfect Harmony: An Evening of Arab and Jewish Music
February 17, 2008, 6pm at Centennial Hall

Four years ago, visits to Arab, Jewish and Buddhist villages inspired a dream of breaking barriers between cultures in conflict. That dream is now a reality. Artisitic Director, Udi Bar-David, leads a superb Arab-Jewish virtuoso ensemble in this unique multi-media concert event that bridges cultures in an evening celebrating the universality of music.

In Perfect Harmony Symposium
February 16-17, 2008

Guided discussion and interaction focused on opportunities for peaceful coexistence and an examination of the barriers that stand in the way, featuring the documentary, “Encounter Point”. Chaired by Rabbi Rami Shapiro, an internationally recognized teacher of World Religions, and Dr. Maha Nassar, Adjunct Professor, Near Eastern Studies at the University of Arizona.

For ticket information:
www.theinnerconnection.org

The Educational Connection for Middle/High Schools

1,200 student special onsite matinee performance of “In Perfect Harmony”
February 15, 2008 at Santa Rita high school
For more information contact Carole Marlow at carole.marlow@tusd1.org

500 tickets provided to students from under-served schools to attend “In Perfect Harmony’ concert on
February 17, 2008 at Centennial Hall
For more information contact Samantha Scaife at sscaife@email.arizona.edu

March 31 school matinee performance with UA Poetry Center with Taha Muhammad Ali and Peter Cole
March 28, 2008 at UA Poetry Center
For more information contact Renee Angler at angler@email.arizona.edu

25 scholarships for high school students to attend the Symposium event February 16-17

Public Reading: Thursday, March 27 at 8 p.m. High School Matinee: Friday, March 28 at 10:30 a.m.
all events take place at the Poetry Center, 1508 E. Helen St.
and are free and open to the public

High School Poetry Lessons
[link all to http://poetrycenter.arizona.edu/education/hs_lessons.shtml]
Taha Muhammad Ali and Peter Cole: Poems and Discussion Prompts
Understanding Emotions with Personification and Dialogue in Taha Muhammad Ali's Poetry (using the poem "The Falcon")
Spacing and cliché: Using One, Reinventing the Other in Peter Cole's Poetry (using peoms "News That Stays" and "Attitude"

For more information or to reserve seats at the matinee performance contact:
the Poetry Center Outreach Office at (520)626-9625 or poetry@u.arizona.edu.
Space is limited; reserve seats early.

In Perfect Harmony - A Companion Curriculum; Introduction:
By Bryan Davis, M.Ed.

In developing this curriculum we begin with a deep appreciation of the abundance of information and variety of perspectives and experiences connected to the history of what is today called Israel and the Palestinian Territories. We begin with a recognition that we will never be able to teach it all, and that this is merely a starting point. Our objective is to provide direction and support to students and educators with an eye toward the overarching theme of coexistence.

This is a curriculum of questions rather than one that provides answers. By providing educators historic documents and declarations, maps, images, poetry, the personal correspondence of children and the political correspondence of diplomats we hope to inspire questioning, analysis and collaboration. We intend to prompt questions and encourage educators and students to work collaboratively to explore the answers which are not concrete. Throughout this study we must always remain aware of the fact that there are multiple narratives at work and none is more important than another.

In the end, we hope that this unit of study provides a catalyst for self reflection and transformation as certainly some of the overriding themes (borders, security, justice, displacement, uprooting, exile, conflict, revenge, reconciliation, language acquisition/barriers) are relevant and immediately applicable to our lives.

The Palestinian-Israeli conflict is essentially a modern conflict originating in the 20th century. However, the roots of the conflict – involving competing historical claims to the same stretch of land - go back thousands of years.

Jewish roots in the area began some time between 1800 and 1500 B.C. when the Hebrew people, a Semitic group, migrated into Canaan (today’s Israel). Around 1000 B.C., their descendents formally established the kingdom of Israel with Jerusalem as its capital. Israel soon split into two kingdoms and was frequently under the control of foreign conquerors: the Assyrians, Babylonians, Persians, Greeks, and ultimately the Romans. However, despite repeated conquests, the Jews always retained their separate identity, mostly because of their distinctive religious beliefs. The fact that the Jews were monotheists (believers in one God), while their neighbors were polytheists set the Jews apart and instilled in them the idea that the territory of Israel was their “promised land.” The Jewish majority in that land was ended, however, when the Roman Empire expelled the Jewish population from Israel following a failed revolt against Roman rule in 135 AD. For the next 1,800 years, the majority of Jews lived in scattered diasporas (ethnic communities outside of their traditional homeland) throughout Europe and the Middle East.

Meanwhile, the land, which the Romans now named ‘Palaestina,’ or ‘Palestine’ in its English form, was inhabited by small groups of Jews, who had gradually returned to the area, along with other local peoples and some colonists brought in by the Romans. In the 7th century AD, Palestine came under the control of Arabs, who introduced into the region the Arabic language (a Semitic language related to Hebrew) and the religion of Islam, (a monotheistic religion related to Judaism and Christianity). Although there remained a Jewish minority in the area, comprising less than 10% of the total population, from the 7th century to the mid-20th century, the majority of the inhabitants were Arabic-speaking Palestinians. Most Palestinians are Muslims, but there is also a significant number of Palestinian Christians. Jews, Christians, and Muslims lived together relatively peacefully during the centuries that Palestine was part of the Ottoman Empire (1517-1918). However, the situation has changed over the course of the last century.

As with so many modern-day conflicts, the struggle between Jews and Palestinians developed as a product of modern nationalism, which spread throughout Europe – and eventually into the Middle East – during the 19th century. Nationalism can be a unifying force, bringing together people of all different social classes and even joining inhabitants of different countries or empires on the basis of a common language, culture, and religion. However, it can also be a disruptive force, calling for the destruction of multi-national empires and leading to discrimination against ethnic or religious minorities.

The rise of nationalism had major repercussions for the Jewish diasporas of Europe. On the one hand, Jews had an increased opportunity – even pressure - to assimilate and become members of the newly emerging ‘nations’ in which they lived, an option that brought obvious advantages but would also require them to give up their separate identity. On the other hand, nationalism fanned the flames of anti-Semitism (hostility toward the Jews), a European prejudice which had originally been based on religious feeling but which now became more intensely political as Jews were seen as ‘foreigners’ hindering the development of national unity. As attacks on Jews increased, especially in Eastern Europe, Jews responded by developing their own form of nationalism - the Zionist movement - which emerged in Europe in the 1880’s and called for the establishment of a Jewish national homeland in Palestine. Inspired by political Zionism, small groups of Jews left Europe and set up farming settlements in Palestine, which was then part of the Ottoman Empire. At first these settlements were small, and the newcomers faced little opposition from the established population. After all, as late as 1917, the Jews were still less than 10% of the total population of Palestine and thus not seen as a threat by the local inhabitants. However, tensions mounted during and after the First World War.

European, particularly British, policies during World War I played a major role in bringing about a conflict between Jews and Arabs in the Middle East. Because the Ottoman Empire (of which Palestine was a part) was allied with Germany and Austria against Great Britain and its allies, the British entered into negotiations with an Arab leader planning a revolt against the Ottoman Empire. During these discussions in 1915, the British promised the Arabs an independent state after the war. Though the boundaries of the proposed state were never formally settled, Arab leaders believed that their people would be united in one large country, which would, of course, include Palestine. In the meantime, the Western powers had other ideas, secretly signing an agreement to divide most of the area into French and British-controlled ‘mandates.’ To make matters more complicated, the British courted international Jewish support by issuing the Balfour Declaration, which supported the concept of a Jewish homeland in Palestine. In essence, control of Palestine was promised to three different groups: the Arabs, British, and Jews! Thus, when the war ended and the British took charge of the Palestinian Mandate, both Arabs and Jews felt that the British had broken their promises to them.

Relations between Palestinians and Jews declined rapidly. The Balfour Declaration had alarmed Palestinians, who saw it as British favoritism toward the Jewish minority. Their fears grew as Jewish immigration increased dramatically, particularly after the rise of Hitler to power in Germany. To Jews fleeing from persecution in Europe, Palestine was one of the few places of refuge, especially as the United States and other countries closed their doors to refugees desperate to escape Nazi persecution. However, to Palestinians, the arrival of a large Jewish immigrant population altered the balance of the population, displaced many people from their land, and threatened their goal of establishing an independent Arab state in the region. Violence soon erupted between the groups.

The situation deteriorated in the immediate aftermath of World War II. Survivors of the Holocaust swelled the number of Jewish immigrants to the region, and the Allied victors, horrified by the revelation of large-scale genocide in Europe, were reluctant to stop them. As violence between Jews and Arabs grew, the British declared its Mandate over Palestine to be unworkable, turning control of the area over to the United Nations. U.N. Resolution 181 divided Palestine in two: giving 55% of the land to the Jews and 45% to the Palestinians, while putting the city of Jerusalem under a separate international authority. The Jews accepted the proposal and proclaimed the creation of the state of Israel in May 1948; the Palestinians rejected the loss of their territory. Fighting broke out in which neighboring Arab countries supported the Palestinians.

Israeli forces were victorious. (Israelis call this war “The War of Independence;” Palestinians call it “The Catastrophe.”) As a result of its victory, Israel increased its territory by 30%, and more than 700,000 Palestinian refugees fled or were driven from their homes. Many ended up in refugee camps in Lebanon, Jordan, or other areas, camps that were to become permanent places of residence. In the meantime, an additional 900,000 Jews moved to Israel over the next several years. Thus, in the first half of the 20th century, the population and balance of political power in the area underwent dramatic changes.

1. What is the basis of Jewish claims to the land? What is the basis of Palestinian claims?

2. What effect did modern day nationalism (and the idea that each group of people should have its own country) have on both the Jewish and Palestinian people? Why would the concept of nationalism promote conflict between them?

3. How did European developments affect the question of Palestine? (What role did the French and especially the British have in the conflict? How did the rise of the Nazis to power in Germany in the 1930s affect the Palestinian-Israeli question?)

4. Why and how was Israel created in 1948? What was the immediate effect on both peoples?

            Although the United Nations brokered an end to 1948 war between Israel and the Arab countries, the area remained unstable. Both sides built up their military capacities in preparation for further conflict. In the meantime, many Palestinians, frustrated by the refugee crisis and the reduction in their political and economic position, joined resistance groups. In 1964, a number of these groups merged to form the Palestinian Liberation Organization (PLO), which soon came under the leadership of Yasser Arafat.

            War erupted between Israel and its Arab neighbors several times over the next decades: in 1956, 1967, and 1973. The Six Day War of 1967 was especially significant as Israel took over and occupied the Sinai Peninsula, the Golan Heights, Gaza, the West Bank, and East Jerusalem. Not only was Israel now several times larger than in 1948, but one million Palestinians had come under Israeli rule. In addition, over 200,000 more Palestinians became refugees (mostly going to Jordan). Beginning in 1977, Israeli prime minister Menachem Begin launched a campaign to establish Jewish settlements in the occupied territories. Although the settlement policy was controversial among Israelis, approximately 120,000 Jewish settlers went to East Jerusalem and 100,000 to the West Bank and Gaza. As a result of the settlements, Palestinians lost more of their land and saw their freedom of movement limited. Palestinian guerillas attacked settlers and others within Israel; the Israeli army struck out at Palestinians. Civilian casualties mounted on both sides. The conflict spread to neighboring Lebanon, where the PLO and Israeli army both took an active role in the Lebanese Civil War. A vicious cycle ensued: Israelis, citing security concerns, limited the political, economic, and travel capability of Palestinians, while Palestinians, frustrated by their treatment at the hands of Israelis, increased their resistance activities. The United States periodically attempted to start peace negotiations, but its tendency to be more sympathetic to Israeli concerns reduced the effectiveness of these efforts.

            By late 1987, the Palestinians were in open revolt, a spontaneous movement which came to be called the “intifada” (Arabic for “resistance” or “shaking off”). Hundreds of thousands of Palestinians, mostly young people, participated in civil disobedience (refusal to pay taxes, boycotts, strikes) and in throwing rocks at Israeli troops. The Israeli army responded with force, killing over 1,000 Palestinians, hundreds of whom were children under the age of 16. Israel began to draw criticism, both at home and abroad, for its treatment of Palestinian civilians. Similarly, Palestinian bombing attacks targeted Israeli civilians.

            The suffering on both sides led to peace negotiations beginning in 1991, but the failure to achieve a lasting settlement resulted in a second intifada beginning in 2000. More negotiations have resulted, but there is still tension and violence to this day.

1. Security. Random attacks and acts of terrorism are problems faced by both sides. Israelis resent that they can’t walk down a street without worrying that something – or someone – will blow up beside them. Palestinians resent that they are frequently mistreated by Israeli soldiers or that their houses and possessions are bulldozed if a person in their family is accused of attacks against Israel. Israelis say the soldiers and use of extreme tactics are necessary to keep their people safe; Palestinians say that their search for a just treatment is what drives them to attack Israel. Any peace effort would have to take into account the desire of both groups for greater security for their lives and property. It is important to note that Israelis, in particular, rank security as their number one concern. In addition to the protection of individuals and property, Israelis want their country to be secure from outside attack. Therefore, many consider the recognition of the state of Israel by their Arab neighbors an important key to the security of their country and of their people.

2. Right of return for Palestinian refugees. This issue is one of the top priorities of the Palestinians, who feel that all refugees and their descendents should have a right to return to their place of origin. Many of them have lived for decades in refugee camps with a very poor standard of living. For Israelis, the problem is that, due to a high Palestinian birthrate, there are now 4 million people descended from the original refugees. If they all returned to Israel and joined the 1 million Arabs currently living there, that would make a population of 5 million Palestinians and 5 million Jews in Israel, which alters the Jewish character of the state. In addition, Israelis worry that returning Palestinians would want to reclaim their original lands and evict the current Jewish owners. Some Palestinians feel this is only fair; many Israelis feel that it would be wrong to displace people who have been living on that land for two generations. A settlement that is fair to everyone will be difficult to achieve.

3. Control of Jerusalem. This city is holy to Jews, Muslims, and Christians. The problem: Who should control it, or how should control be shared?

4. Israeli troops in Palestinian territories. Israelis say their troops are necessary to provide security; Palestinians say the Israeli troops harass or even attack innocent people. Palestinians want their own troops in charge of Palestinian areas. The question, for Israelis, is whether these troops would be able to control their own extremist factions.

5. Israeli settlements in Palestinian lands. Since the 1967 war, thousands of Israeli settlers have moved into the Gaza strip and the West Bank, claiming the Israelis have a right to that land dating from Biblical times. Palestinians resent the settlers for taking over Palestinian lands. Many moderate Israelis agree, seeing the settlements as a stumbling block to peace, but they face a tremendous challenge in how to close the settlements without provoking opposition from Jewish residents of these areas.

6. Movement of people and goods in the West Bank and Gaza. Israelis consider their checkpoints and restrictions on the movement of Arab inhabitants to be important for their security. However, such restrictions severely hurt the Palestinian economy by limiting their trade and employment opportunities. The peace process would have to balance the Israeli need for security with the Palestinian need for greater freedom and economic wellbeing.

7. The propaganda and language of hate. Both Palestinians and Jews are split among moderates and extremists, and extremists on both sides portray the other side as less than human. On the surface, the problem of words seems less pressing than problems of hostile soldiers, suicide bombers, or refugees. Yet, in reality, the underlying fear and hatred promoted by extremists on both sides make it difficult to achieve the mutual respect necessary to compromise.

            As the violence took an increasing toll on both sides, there have been efforts to achieve a peaceful settlement. In September 1978, during a conference at Camp David organized by American president Jimmy Carter, Israeli prime minister Menachem Begin and Egyptian president Anwar Sadat signed a peace agreement between the two countries, which led to an Israeli withdrawal from Sinai. However, even though Israel and Egypt had begun negotiations, conflicts within Israel were escalating.

            Direct talks between Palestinian and Israeli authorities only began in 1991. Under pressure from the United States and the Soviet Union, a series of talks was held in Madrid, Spain, between the Israeli government, individual Arab states, and the PLO. However, some Israeli and Palestinian leaders sought a less public and politically charged environment and entered into secret discussions in Norway. The result was the signing of the Oslo Accords by Israeli leader Yitzhak Rabin and PLO leader Yasser Arafat in 1993.

            According to the Oslo Agreement, Israel would withdraw forces from Gaza and the West Bank town of Jericho and grant greater autonomy to the Palestinians. Eventually Palestinians would be able to elect a Self-Government Authority in these areas. In return, the PLO agreed to recognize the state of Israel, a step that Israelis felt was vital to their security. Soon a Palestinian Authority was established under Arafat, and Jordan had joined Egypt in recognizing the state of Israel. Critics of the Oslo Accords charge that the agreement did not address many of the serious issues that still divided the two peoples.

            Unfortunately, these issues were never resolved, and both sides failed to honor parts of the agreement. Israel increased its settlements in Palestinian lands, and Palestinian responded by increasing attacks on settlers. Extremists on both sides led to a further escalation of the conflict. In early 1994, an Israeli terrorist killed 30 Muslim worshippers in a mosque in Hebron, and Palestinian terrorists retaliated with a series of suicide bombings.   The peace process quickly broke down.

            In 2000, the suffering of both groups led to further attempts at negotiation. Israeli leader Ehud Barak and Palestinian leader Yasser Arafat met at Camp David to seek a resolution of the conflict. It soon became evident, though, that the fundamental issues dividing the two peoples are difficult to resolve. No definitive agreement was reached, and the peace process remains stalled to the present day. Recent developments have added a further element of uncertainty. Yasser Arafat died in November 2004, and just over a year later (January 2006), the more extreme Hamas party was elected to leadership positions in the Palestinian Authority. Israel has also assumed a more militant policy: In summer 2006, an Israeli invasion of Lebanon and attacks on Palestinians there provoked an international outcry. Peace talks resumed in late November 2007 in Annapolis, Maryland, but it remains to be seen whether agreement can be reached.

Turn the Other Cheek: Poetic Explorations of Revenge and Reconciliation
By Bryan Davis, M.Ed.
7th and 8th Grade Language Arts

Objective: Using Taha Muhammad Ali’s poem, “Revenge,” as a point of departure and reference, students will write a poem grappling with their own feelings and ideas about revenge and reconciliation.

re·venge verb, - to exact punishment for a wrong in a resentful or vindictive spirit
rec·on·cil·i·a·tion noun, - the process of making friendly or compatible

Procedures: Class will commence with a guided discussion of revenge and reconciliation. Facilitate discussion through questioning:

What causes one to want to take revenge?
Is revenge rational or emotional, both or neither?
Is revenge satisfying?
What does revenge accomplish?
When considering revenge, does one consider the full scale of the consequences of the planned revenge?
When considering revenge, does one consider the human similarities between him/herself and the target?
How can one move beyond the idea of revenge and toward reconciliation?
Is reconciliation satisfying?
What does reconciliation accomplish?

* This exercise can also be done in writing utilizing the Table 1. (see end of lesson) *

Instruct students to write in their journals about revenge and/or reconciliation. Offer the opportunity for students to share their writing with the class as they feel comfortable.

Read Taha Muhammad Ali’s poem, “Revenge,” to the class. The poem can be found at the end of this lesson.

A live reading of the poem by Taha in Arabic and translated by Peter Cole to English can be shown online: http://www.grdodge.org/2006festival_revenge.htm

Extension: Students can take their poems into the Spanish classroom and work with a partner on translation. Teachers should call attention to the fact that there are no perfect translations, and that often meaning and nuance are lost in translation. It is nonetheless useful, for the purposes of reinforcing the idea of uniqueness of language in general and acquisition of Spanish specifically, to struggle to find the most consistent translation. The poems can ultimately be presented in a format similar to Taha and Peter Cole.

At times ... I wish
I could meet in a duel
the man who killed my father
and razed our home,
expelling me
into
a narrow country.
And if he killed me,
I’d rest at last,
and if I were ready—
I would take my revenge!
*
But if it came to light,
when my rival appeared,
that he had a mother
waiting for him,
or a father who’d put
his right hand over
the heart’s place in his chest
whenever his son was late
even by just a quarter-hour
for a meeting they’d set—
then I would not kill him,
even if I could.
*
Likewise ... I
would not murder him
if it were soon made clear
that he had a brother or sisters
who loved him and constantly longed to see him.
Or if he had a wife to greet him
and children who
couldn’t bear his absence
and whom his gifts would thrill.
Or if he had
friends or companions,
neighbors he knew
or allies from prison
or a hospital room,
or classmates from his school …
asking about him
and sending him regards.
*
But if he turned
out to be on his own—
cut off like a branch from a tree—
without a mother or father,
with neither a brother nor sister,
wifeless, without a child,
and without kin or neighbors or friends,
colleagues or companions,
then I’d add not a thing to his pain
within that aloneness—
not the torment of death,
and not the sorrow of passing away.
Instead I’d be content
to ignore him when I passed him by
on the street—as I
convinced myself
that paying him no attention
in itself was a kind of revenge.

Wordplay: List Poem and Lifted Text
By Bryan Davis, M.Ed.
7th and 8th Grade Language Arts

Objective: Students will work independently and collaboratively to write a list poem (catalog verse) drawing from the wealth of names, places, dates, images, emotions and anything else they can pull into the creation of a piece based thematically on a study of the Arab/Israeli conflict. Students will revise their list poems by moving lines around and playing with line breaks to draw new meaning from their original work.

Procedure: Allay any trepidation students may have for writing poetry by ensuring them that they have been writing list poems since they started writing. In fact, some of their earliest writing assignments were likely list poems: a list of sight words, a list of the same spelling word written over and over, a list of words that end with at.

A list poem can be viewed simply as a means of organizing one’s thoughts. List poems are flexible, accessible and should have few restrictions. They can be in rhyme or unrhymed and of virtually any length. Of course the assignment should be taken seriously, and students should aspire to something creative that communicates an understanding, sentiment or narrative.

A poem is like a wheel
A poet is like a fish out of water
A poem could be anything
A poet can think of everything
A poet’s power is as great as thunder
A poet leaves everyone in amazement and wonder
A poet is as mysterious as fog
He wanders in a cloud of thought

I have seen the best minds of my generation[…]
who bared their brains to heaven[…]
who passed through universities with radiant cool eyes[…]
who were expelled from the academies[…]
who ate fire[…]
who sank all night in submarine light[…]
who talked continuously[…]
who wandered around and around at midnight[…]

As a prewriting activity, brainstorm a list of words associated with an earlier unit of study (or any other shared knowledge or experience). You can list favorite bands, favorite gadgets, song titles, things that happen at night in your house, cities you’ve visited or would like to visit…

Any number of techniques can be used to embellish the list and create a poem, though it remains a poem unadorned, simply a list of words offset by commas. Provide students with ideas of how they can shape their lists to grow them into something more than words offset by commas.

Have students work in pairs to repeat the process this time brainstorming a list of words specific to the Arab/Israeli conflict. Provide them with a framework such as things associated with borders, children in conflict or restrictions to freedom of movement. Students will then work together to organize the words into a list poem. Poems should be shared with the class.

Once poems are shared encourage students to revise their poems by rearranging the sequence of lines and changing line breaks. Encourage them to keep playing with the poem until something new and satisfying is drawn out.

A wheel is like a poem
A fish out of water is like a poet
Anything could be a poem
Think of everything a poet can

Students will then repeat this process on their own to create individual, original list poems.

A template can be provided to the class or for students struggling with the assignment. For example, building on the form of Howl:

I’ve seen children in Israel                              I’ve seen children in Palestine
Who…                                                                        Who…
Who…                                                                        Who…
Who…                                                                        Who…
Provide students with maps and historical documents associated with this unit to broaden the range of words bring used. Students can pull words and sentences from the maps and documents to incorporate into their list poems. (Note: These lifted words and sentences do not need to be cited as they are being pulled to create an entirely new and artistic collage of sorts. This should be communicated to students for clarity and out of respect for the work of others).

* If teachers are using the suitcase from the folk tale lesson, the list poems should be collected in the suitcase.*

Two Sentence Folk Tales: Oral Traditions, Morocco and an Empty Suitcase
By Bryan Davis, M.Ed.
7th and 8th Grade Language Arts

Objective: Students will write either one or several two sentence folk tales addressing one or more of this unit of study’s overriding themes (borders, security, justice, displacement, uprooting, exile, conflict, revenge, reconciliation, language acquisition/barriers). Additionally, students will listen to the folk tales written by their classmates and rewrite them to illustrate the process of gradual modification that occurs in an oral tradition.

Procedures: The following Moroccan folk tale will be read to the class to establish a setting for this activity.

“A person was carrying a very heavy red leather suitcase. When opened, it contained nothing but a blank sheet of paper.”

Ideally, the teacher will bring a suitcase into the classroom for the duration of this activity (of course the suitcase does not necessarily need to be red or leather). Explain to the students that the word heavy is figurative language but that the sense of heaviness that emanates from the suitcase is derived from the moral gravity of the messages the suitcase will contain.

Students will fill the suitcase with their own two sentence folk tales. The writing must address a theme that is intricately linked to the study of Israel/Palestine. Those themes include but are not limited to: borders, security, justice, displacement, uprooting, exile, conflict, revenge, reconciliation, language acquisition/barriers.

The men came to the river and prayed for it to freeze. The next morning, they crossed, the only boats were their shoes. (Renee Angle)

The father threw the scissors into the river and far from the children. The women mourned. (Renee Angle)

This activity will culminate in a live demonstration of how folk tales come to life and become modified through oral presentation. A student will read their original piece. The student that has the first reconstruction (numbered two) will then read their version. Continue numerically through oral presentations of the folk tale.

Once the final reconstruction has been presented facilitate discussion using the following questions:

The class as a whole can then attempt to crystallize the message in one final rewriting of the folk tale. Students can share their interpretations.

Place all of the writing in the suitcase. Teachers have any number of options for what to do with the suitcase:

Trade suitcases with another Language Arts class. Each class can delve into the work of their peers. After hearing a folk tale for the first time, the class can play telephone and see how the folk tale changes at the end of the line.

Bring the suitcase to a lower grade classroom and share the folk tales with them.

Huck Finn and the Arab/Israeli Conflict
By Bryan Davis, M.Ed.
7th and 8th Grade Language Arts

Objective: Modeled on Thomas Friedman’s opening pages of From Beirut to Jerusalem, students will use an excerpt from The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn as a template through which they will recreate the conversation as a dialogue between young Israelis and Palestinians.

Procedure: Provide students with copies of the excerpt from The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. After reading the excerpt, students will rewrite the conversation replacing the Grangerfords and Shepherdsons with young Israelis and Palestinians.

Children in War: Israeli and Palestinian Experiences
High School English Unit
By Lisa Adeli, University of Arizona Center for Middle Eastern Studies

Overview: This lesson has three parts: an historical background (to prepare students to understand the complexity of the conflict); a literary component where students read two short excerpts from memoirs – one by a Palestinian, one by an Israeli – and several poems; and a creative writing component in which students respond to these writings.

Objectives: Students will learn more about the Palestinian-Israeli conflict and literary representations of it. Students will be exposed to multiple viewpoints on the same issue and will increase their analytical and writing skills by bringing together these viewpoints.

Standards (based on 10th grade reading and writing standards):
   Reading:
            Strand 2, Concept 2 – Historical and Cultural Aspects of Literature
PO 1. Describe the historical and cultural aspects found in cross-cultural works of literature.
            Strand 3, Concept 1 – Expository Text
PO 2. Distinguish supported inferences from unsupported inferences in expository selections such as editorials, newspaper articles, essays, reviews, and critiques.
PO 8. Support conclusions drawn from ideas and concepts in expository text.
    Writing:
            Nearly all the strands and concepts of good writing apply.

Connections:
High School Social Studies standards: Strand 2 (World History), Concept 9, P.O. 2 specifically references the Palestinian-Israeli conflict.

Readings that are used in the lesson:
1. Historical background sections (“Background to the Conflict” and “Conflict and Compromise since 1948”).
2. Excerpt from: Amos Oz, A Tale of Love and Darkness: A Memoir. Orlando: Harcourt, 2003. pp. 352-364.
3. Excerpt from: Ibtisam Barakat, Tasting the Sky: A Palestinian Childhood. New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2007. pp. 19-28, 35-43.
4: Poetry: Taha Muhammad Ali - “Revenge” and Yehuda Amichai – “Jerusalem” and “Wildpeace.”

1. Ask students what they know about borders and about the issue of two different peoples inhabiting the same or adjoining land. Referencing their experience living in a border land, ask them what Americans and Mexicans have in common? What issues divide them? What are potential points of conflict? Have there been attempts to resolve these issues that take both sides’ interests into account? The Palestinian-Israeli conflict also involves two different groups of people living in close proximity to each other and (like the U.S.-Mexican border issue) involves groups with different degrees of power.

2. Have students read the “Background to the Conflict” section (2 pages long). While they read, they should think about what claims each side has to the land and what factors have led to a conflict between them. Discuss the reading together and student responses to the questions that follow. (Make sure that they have some understanding of the different perspectives of Israelis and Palestinians.)

3. Next, have students read the selection from A Tale of Love and Darkness, the autobiography of an Israeli man, Amos Oz. (Amos Oz has won many literary awards such as the Israel Prize and the Frankfurt Peace Prize.) Although he was born in Jerusalem in 1939, his parents were recent immigrants from Europe, fleeing the rise of the Nazis to power. He was 9 years old when the state of Israel was created – and war broke out. The selection that students will read tells about Amos’ life in Jerusalem in the years just before the state of Israel was created and what happened in the day and months following the United Nations vote which established the state of Israel. Discuss the reading. (Point out that his parents were relatively new to the area, highly educated in European languages and traditions but less comfortable in Hebrew. Also, notice the effect of the creation of the state of Israel on the Jews of Jerusalem – and their suffering in the war that followed.)

4. Tell them to read the second background section, “Conflict and Compromise since 1948.” Discuss. What might Amos and his family be experiencing in the years following the war of 1948? How might the Palestinians regard the same events in a different light?

5. The next literary selection is from Ibtisam Barakat’s Tasting the Sky (a recently published book for which she has already won an award from the Middle East Outreach Council). Ibtisam is a Palestinian, who was born in Ramallah in 1964. The selection tells of some of her experiences as a refugee during the Six Day War when she was 3 years old. (The reading skips one chapter in which her family fought their way on board a truck and crossed into Jordan.) Discuss and compare her experiences with those of Amos Oz in an earlier conflict.

6. Next read the three poems: “Revenge” by Palestinian poet Taha Muhammad Ali - and “Jerusalem” and “Wildpeace” both by Israeli poet Yehuda Amichai. What feelings does each poem express? Do the two poets share a similar view about the conflict or different ones? Do the students agree or disagree with the poems?

language would they speak? What might they have in common? (Note: Students could look up both authors online to find out more about their work and interests.) In discussing the topic of war between Arabs and Israelis, what might they agree on or disagree on? Would they agree or disagree with the feelings expressed in the three poems the students have read? Students should incorporate description and dialogue in their story. They should also include specific details from the literary selections to support their work.

1. Read the beginning chapter of Ibtisam Barakat’s book when she talks about her teenage years. Analyze what challenges she faces that are common to teenagers everywhere and which ones are specific to her residence in a land occupied by foreign troops. Read more of Amos Oz’s book, looking at which aspects of his life are influenced by political instability in his country.

2. Read selections from Deborah Ellis’ Three Wishes: Israeli and Palestinian Children Speak, a collection of personal accounts by children between the ages of 8 and 18 and/or Mervet Sha’Ban, Galit Fink, and Litsa Boudalika’s If You Could Be My Friend: Letters of Mervet Akram Sha’Ban and Galit Fink, a book of actual letters exchanged between an Israeli and a Palestinian girl in which they talk about their lives and the conflict that divides their peoples. (You are welcome to use the excerpts from both books found in the High School Social Studies lesson included in this packet.) Have the students make a chart of the major issues that the children raise. (You can find a list included in the teachers’ materials in the Social Studies lesson.) Have them list different Israeli views and Palestinian views on each issue. Which issues do Palestinians and Israelis agree/disagree on? Which issues seem to be controversial within the Palestinian or Israeli community? (For example, two of the Israeli children have very different ideas about the issue of Jewish settlements in occupied territories.) Be sure to stress that just as different Americans have different views on politics and society, so too do Palestinians and Israelis have a wide variety of opinions.

1. What is the basis of Jewish claims to the land? What is the basis of Palestinian claims?

4. Why and how was Israel created in 1948? What was the immediate effect on both peoples?

I WAS BORN and bred in a tiny, low-ceilinged ground-floor apartment. My parents slept on a sofa bed that filled their room almost from wall to wall when it was opened up each evening. Early every morning they used to shut away this bed deep into itself, hide the bedclothes in the chest underneath, turn the mattress over, press it all tight shut, and conceal the whole under a light gray cover, then scatter a few embroidered oriental cushions on top, so that all evidence of their night's sleep disappeared. In this way their bedroom also served as study, library, dining room, and living room.

Opposite this room was my little green room, half taken up with a big-bellied wardrobe. A narrow, low passage, dark and slightly curved, like an escape tunnel from a prison, linked the little kitchenette and toilet to these two small rooms. A lightbulb imprisoned in an iron cage cast a gloomy half-light on this passage even during the daytime. At the front both rooms had just a single window, guarded by metal blinds, squinting to catch a glimpse of the view to the east but seeing only a dusty cypress tree and a low wall of roughly dressed stones. Through a tiny opening high up in their back walls the kitchenette and toilet peered out into a little prison yard surrounded by high walls and paved with concrete, where a pale geranium planted in a rusty olive can was gradually dying for want of a single ray of sunlight. On the sills of these tiny openings we always kept jars of pickles and a stubborn cactus in a cracked vase that served as a flowerpot.

It was actually a basement apartment, as the ground floor of the building had been hollowed out of the rocky hillside. This hill was our next-door neighbor, a heavy, introverted, silent neighbor, an old, sad hill with the regular habits of a bachelor, a drowsy, still wintry hill, which never scraped the furniture or entertained guests, never made a noise or disturbed us, but through the walls there seeped constantly toward us, like a faint yet persistent musty smell, the cold, dark silence and dampness of this melancholy neighbor.

Consequently through the summer there was always a hint of winter in our home.

Visitors would say: It's always so pleasant here in a heat wave, so cool and fresh, really chilly, but how do you manage in the winter? Don't the walls let in the damp? Don't you find it depressing?

Books filled our home. My father could read sixteen or seventeen languages and could speak eleven (all with a Russian accent). My mother spoke four or five languages and read seven or eight. They conversed in Russian or Polish when they did not want me to understand. (Which was most of the time. When my mother referred to a stallion in Hebrew in my hearing, my father rebuked her furiously in Russian: Shto s toboi?! Vidish malchik ryadom s nami!-What's the matter with you? You can see the boy's right here!) Out of cultural considerations they mostly read books in German or English, and presumably they dreamed in Yiddish. But the only language they taught me was Hebrew. Maybe they feared that a knowledge of languages would expose me too to the blandishments of Europe, that wonderful, murderous continent.

On my parents' scale of values, the more Western something was, the more cultured it was considered. For all that Tolstoy and Dostoevsky were dear to their Russian souls, I suspect that Germany-despite Hitler-seemed to them more cultured than Russia or Poland, and France more so than Germany. England stood even higher on their scale than France. As for America, there they were not so sure: after all, it was a country where people shot at Indians, held up mail trains, chased gold, and hunted girls.

Europe for them was a forbidden promised land, a yearned-for landscape of belfries and squares paved with ancient flagstones, of trams and bridges and church spires, remote villages, spa towns, forests, and snow-covered meadows. Words like "cottage," "meadow," or "goose girl" excited and seduced me all through my childhood. They had the sensual aroma of a genuine, cozy world, far from the dusty tin roofs, the urban wasteland of scrap iron and thistles, the parched hillsides of our Jerusalem suffocating under the weight of white-hot summer. It was enough for me to whis2er to myself "meadow," and at once I could hear the lowing of cows with little bells tied around their necks, and the burbling of brooks. Closing my eyes, I could see the barefoot goose girl, whose sexiness brought me to tears before I knew about anything.

As the years passed I became aware that Jerusalem, under British rule in the 1920s, 193os, and 1940s, must be a fascinatingly cultured city. It had big businessmen, musicians, scholars, and writers: Martin Buber, Gershom Scholem, S. Y. Agnon, and a host of other eminent academics and artists. Sometimes as we walked down Ben Yehuda Street or Ben Maimon Avenue, my father would whisper to me: "Look, there is a scholar with a worldwide reputation." I did not know what he meant. I thought that having a worldwide reputation was somehow connected with having weak legs, because the person in question was often an elderly man who felt his way with a stick and stumbled as he walked along, and wore a heavy woolen suit even in summer.

            The Jerusalem my parents looked up to lay far from the area where we lived: it was in leafy Rehavia with its gardens and its strains of piano music, it was in three or four cafes with gilded chandeliers on the Jaffa Road or Ben Yehuda Street, in the halls of the YMCA or the King David Hotel, where culture-seeking Jews and Arabs mixed with cultivated Englishmen with perfect manners, where dreamy, long-necked ladies f l oated in evening dresses, on the arms of gentlemen in dark suits, where broad-minded Britons dined with cultured Jews or educated Arabs, where there were recitals, balls, literary evenings, thes dansants, and exquisite, artistic conversations. Or perhaps such a Jerusalem, with its chandeliers and thes dansants, existed only in the dreams of the librarians, schoolteachers, clerks, and bookbinders who lived in Kerem Avraham. At any rate, it didn't exist where we were. Kerem Avraham, the area where we lived, belonged to Chekhov.

            Years later, when I read Chekhov (in Hebrew translation), I was convinced he was one of us: Uncle Vanya lived right upstairs from us, Doctor Samoylenko bent over me and examined me with his broad, strong hands when I had a fever and once diphtheria, Laevsky with his perpetual migraine was my mother's second cousin, and we used to go and listen to Trigorin at Saturday matinees in the Beit Ha`am
Auditorium.

            We were surrounded by Russians of every sort. There were many Tolstoyans. Some of them even looked like Tolstoy. When I came across a brown photograph of Tolstoy on the back of a book, I was certain that I had seen him often in our neighborhood, strolling along Malachi Street or down Obadiah Street, bareheaded, his white beard ruffled by the breeze, as awesome as the Patriarch Abraham, his eyes flashing, using a branch as a walking stick, a Russian shirt worn outside the baggy trousers tied around his waist with a length of string.

Our neighborhood Tolstoyans (whom my parents referred to as Tolstoyshchiks) were without exception devout vegetarians, world reformers with strong feelings for nature, seekers after the moral life, lovers of humankind, lovers of every single living creature, with a perpetual yearning for the rural life, for simple agricultural labor among fields and orchards. But they were not successful even in cultivating their own potted plants: perhaps they killed them by overwatering, or perhaps they forgot to water them, or else it was the fault of the nasty British administration that put chlorine in our water.

Some of them were Tolstoyans who might have stepped straight out of the pages of a novel by Dostoevsky: tormented, talkative, suppressing their desires, consumed by ideas. But all of them, Tolstoyans and Dostoevskians alike, in our neighborhood of Kerem Avraham, worked for Chekhov.

The rest of the world was generally known as "the worldatlarge," but it had other epithets too: enlightened, outside, free, hypocritical. I knew it almost exclusively from my stamp collection: Danzig, Bohemia, and Moravia, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Ubangi-Shari, Trinidad and Tobago, Kenya, Uganda, and Tanganyika. That worldatlarge was far away, attractive, marvelous, but to us it was dangerous and threatening. It didn't like the Jews because they were clever, quick-witted, successful, but also because they were noisy and pushy. It didn't like what we were doing here in the Land of Israel either, because it begrudged us even this meager strip of marshland, boulders, and desert. Out there, in the world, all the walls were covered with graffiti: "Yids, go back to Palestine," so we came back to Palestine, and now the worldatlarge shouts at us: "Yids, get out of Palestine."

It was not only the worldatlarge that was a long way away: even the Land of Israel was pretty far off. Somewhere, over the hills and far away, a new breed of heroic Jews was springing up, a tanned, tough, silent, practical breed of men, totally unlike the Jews of the Diaspora, totally unlike the residents of Kerem Avraham. Courageous, rugged pioneers, who had succeeded in making friends with the darkness of night, and had overstepped every limit, too, as regards relations between a boy and a girl and vice versa. They were not ashamed of anything. Grandpa Alexander once said: "They think in the future it's going to be so simple, a boy will be able to go up to a girl and just ask for it, or maybe the girls won't even wait to be approached, but will go and ask the boys for it, like asking for a glass of water." Shortsighted Uncle Betsalel said with polite anger: "Isn't this sheer Bolshevism, to trample on every secret, every mystery?! To abolish all emotions?! To turn our whole life into a glass of lukewarm water?!" Uncle Nehemia, from his corner, let fly a couple of lines of a song that sounded to me like the growling of a cornered beast: "Oh, long is the journey and winding the road, I travel o'er mountain and plain, Oh Mamma, I seek you through heat and through snow, I miss you but you're far away! ..." Then Aunt Zippora said, in Russian: "That'll do, now. Have you all gone out of your minds? The boy can hear you!" And so they all changed to Russian.

The pioneers lived beyond our horizon, in Galilee, Sharon, and the Valleys. Tough, warmhearted, though of course silent and thoughtful, young men, and strapping, straightforward, self-disciplined young women, who seemed to know and understand everything; they knew you and your shy confusion, yet they would treat you with affection, seriousness, and respect, treat you not like a child but like a man, albeit an undersized one.
I pictured these pioneers as strong, serious, self-contained people, capable of sitting around in a circle and singing songs of heartrending longing, or songs of mockery, or outrageous songs of lust; or of dancing so wildly that they seemed to transcend the physical. They were capable of loneliness and introspection, of living outdoors, sleeping in tents, doing hard labor, singing, "We are always at the ready," "Your boys brought you peace with a plowshare, today they bring peace with a gun," "Wherever we're sent to, we go-o-o"; they could ride wild horses or widetracked tractors; they spoke Arabic, knew every cave and wadi, had a way with pistols and hand grenades, yet read poetry and philosophy; they were large men with inquiring minds and hidden feelings, who could converse in a near whisper by candlelight in their tents in the small hours of the morning about the meaning of our lives and the grim choices between love and duty, between patriotism and universal justice.

Sometimes my friends and I went to the Tnuva delivery yard to watch them arriving from over the hills and far away on a truck laden with agricultural produce, "clad in dust, burdened with arms, and with such heavy boots," and I used to go up to them to inhale the smell of hay, the intoxicating odors of faraway places: it's where they come from, I thought, that great things are happening. That's where the land is being built and the world is being reformed, where a new society is being forged. They are stamping their mark on the landscape and on history, they are plowing fields and planting vineyards, they are writing a new song, they pick up their guns, mount their horses, and shoot back at the Arab marauders: they take our miserable human clay and mold it into a fighting nation.

I secretly dreamed that one day they would take me with them. And make me into a fighting nation too. That my life too would become a new song, a life as pure and straightforward and simple as a glass of water on a hot day.

Over the hills and far away, the city of Tel Aviv was also an exciting place, from which came the newspapers, rumors of theater, opera, ballet, and cabaret, as well as modern art, party politics, echoes of stormy debates, and indistinct snatches of gossip. There were great sportsmen in Tel Aviv. And there was the sea, full of bronzed Jews who could swim. Who in Jerusalem could swim? Who had ever heard of swimming Jews? These were different genes. A mutation. "Like the wondrous birth of a butterfly out of a worm."
There was a special magic in the very name of Tel Aviv. As soon as I heard the word "Telaviv," I conjured up in my mind's eye a picture of a
(…………….
*This next section describes the effect of the United Nations vote that created Israel (by dividing the Palestinian mandate into a Jewish and Arab half) and the war that followed.)

After midnight, toward the end of the vote, I woke up. My bed was underneath the window that looked out on the street, so all I had to do was kneel and peer through the slats of the shutters. I shivered.

Like a frightening dream, crowds of shadows stood massed together silently by the yellow light of the street lamp, in our yard, in the neighboring yards, on balconies, in the roadway, like a vast assembly of ghosts. Hundreds of people not uttering a sound, neighbors, acquaintances, and strangers, some in their nightclothes and others in jacket and tie, occasional men in hats or caps, some women bareheaded, others in dressing gowns with scarves around their heads, some of them carrying sleepy children on their shoulders, and on the edge of the crowd I noticed here and there an elderly woman sitting on a stool or a very old man who had been brought out into the street with his chair.

The whole crowd seemed to have been turned to stone in that frightening night silence, as if they were not real people but hundreds of dark silhouettes painted onto the canvas of the flickering darkness. As though they had died on their feet. Not a word was heard, not a cough or a footstep. No mosquito hummed. Only the deep, rough voice of the American presenter blaring from the radio, which was set at full volume and made the night air tremble, or it may have been the voice of the president of the Assembly, the Brazilian Oswaldo Aranha. One after another he read out the names of the last countries on the list, in English alphabetical order, followed immediately by the reply of their representative. United Kingdom: abstains. Union of Soviet Socialist Republics: yes. United States: yes. Uruguay: yes. Venezuela: yes. Yemen: no. Yugoslavia: abstains.

At that the voice suddenly stopped, and an otherworldly silence descended and froze the scene, a terrified, panic-stricken silence, a silence of hundreds of people holding their breath, such as I have never heard in my life either before or after that night.

Then the thick, slightly hoarse voice came back, shaking the air summed up with a rough dryness brimming with excitement: Thirty-three for. Thirteen against. Ten abstentions and one country absent from the vote. The resolution is approved.

His voice was swallowed up in a roar that burst from the radio, overflowing from the galleries in the hall at Lake Success, and after a couple more seconds of shock and disbelief, of lips parted as though in thirst and eyes wide open, our faraway street on the edge of Kerem Avraham in northern Jerusalem also roared all at once in a first terrifying shout that tore through the darkness and the buildings and trees, piercing itself, not a shout of joy, nothing like the shouts of spectators in sports grounds or excited rioting crowds, perhaps more like a scream of horror and bewilderment, a cataclysmic shout, a shout that could shift rocks, that could freeze your blood, as though all the dead who had ever died here and all those still to die had received a brief window to shout, and the next moment the scream of horror was replaced by roars of joy and a medley of hoarse cries and "The Jewish People Lives" and somebody trying to sing Hatikvah and women shrieking and clapping and "Here in the Land Our Fathers Loved," and the whole crowd started to revolve slowly around itself as though it were being stirred in a huge cement mixer, and there were no more restraints, and I jumped into my trousers but didn't bother with a shirt or sweater and shot out our door, and some neighbor or stranger picked me up so I wouldn't be trampled underfoot, and I was passed from hand to hand until I landed on my father's shoulders near our front gate. My father and mother were staring there hugging one another like two children lost in the woods, as I had never seen them before or since, and for a moment I was between them inside their hug and a moment later I was back on Father's shoulders and my very cultured, polite father was standing there shouting at the top of his voice, not words or wordplay or Zionist slogans, not even cries of joy, but one long naked shout like before words were invented.

Others were singing now, everyone was singing, but my father, who couldn't sing and didn't know the words of the popular songs, did not stop but went on with his long shout to the end of his lungs aaaahhh, and when he ran out of breath, he inhaled like a drowning man and went on shouting, this man who wanted to be a famous professor and deserved to become one, but now he was all just aaahhhh. And I was surprised to see my mother's hand stroking his wet head and the back of his neck, and then I felt her hand on my head and my back too because I might unawares have been helping my father shout, and my mother's hand stroked the two of us over and over again, perhaps to soothe us or perhaps not, perhaps out of the depths she was also trying to share with him and me in our shout and with the whole street, the whole neighborhood, the whole city, and the whole country, my sad mother was trying to participate this time-no, definitely not the whole city but only the Jewish areas, because Sheikh Jarrah, Katamon, Bakaa, and Talbieh must have heard us that night wrapped in a silence that might have resembled the terrified silence that lay upon the Jewish neighborhoods before the result of the vote was announced. In the Silwanis' house in Sheikh Jarrah and in Aisha's home in Talbieh and the home of the man in the clothes shop, the beloved man Gepetto with the bags under his compassionate eyes, there were no celebrations tonight. They must have heard the sounds of rejoicing from the Jewish streets, they may have stood at their windows to watch the few joyful fireworks that injured the dark sky, pursing their lips in silence. Even the parrots were silent. And the fountain in the pool in the garden. Even though neither Katamon, Talbieh, nor Bakaa knew or could know yet that in another five months they would fall empty, intact, into the hands of the Jews and that new people would come and live in those vaulted houses of pink stone and those villas with their many cornices and arches.

Then there was dancing and weeping on Amos Street, in the whole of Kerem Avraham and in all the Jewish neighborhoods; flags appeared, and slogans written on strips of cloth, car horns blared, and "Raise the Banner High to Zion" and "Here in the Land Our Fathers Loved," shofar blasts sounded from all the synagogues, and Torah scrolls were taken out of the holy arks and were caught up in the dancing, and "God Will Rebuild Galilee" and "Come and Behold How Great Is This Day," and later, in the small hours of the morning, Mr. Auster suddenly opened his shop, and all the kiosks in Zephaniah Street and Geula Street and Chancellor Street and Jaffa Road and King George opened, and the bar opened up all over the city and handed out soft drinks and snacks and even alcoholic drinks until the first light of dawn, bottles of fruit drink, beer, and wine passed from hand to hand and from mouth to mouth, strangers hugged each other in the streets and kissed each other with tears, and startled English policemen were also dragged into the circles of dancers and softened up with cans of beer and sweet liqueurs, and frenzied revelers climbed up on British armored cars and waved the flag of the state that had not been established yet, but tonight, over there in Lake Success, it had been decided that it had the right to be established. And it would be established 167 days and nights later, on Friday, May 14, 1948, but one in every hundred men, women, old folk, children, and babies in those crowds of Jews who were dancing, reveling, drinking, and weeping for joy, fully one percent of the excited people who spilled out onto the streets that night, would die in the war that the Arabs started within seven hours of the General Assembly's decision at Lake Sucess-to be helped, when the British left, by the regular armed forces of the Arab League, columns of infantry, armor, artillery, fighter planes, and bombers, from the south, the east, and the north, the regular armies of five Arab states invading with the intention of putting an end to the new state within one or two days of its proclamation.

But my father said to me as we wandered there, on the night of November 29,1947, me riding on his shoulders, among the rings of dancers and merrymakers, not as though he was asking me but as though he knew and was hammering in what he knew with nails: Just you look, my boy, take a very good look, son, take it all in, because you won't forget this night to your dying day and you'll tell your children, your grandchildren, and your great-grandchildren about this night when we're long gone.

And very late, at a time when this child had never been allowed not to be fast asleep in bed, maybe at three or four o'clock, I crawled under my blanket in the dark fully dressed. And after a while Father's hand lifted my blanket in the dark, not to be angry with me because I'd got into bed with my clothes on but to get in and lie down next to me, and he was in his clothes too, which were drenched in sweat from the crush of the crowds, just like mine (and we had an iron rule: you must never, for any reason, get between the sheets in your outdoor clothes). My father lay beside me for a few minutes and said nothing, although normally he detested silence and hurried to banish it. But this time he did not touch the silence that was there between us but shared it, with just his hand lightly stroking my head. As though in this darkness my father had turned into my mother.
Then he told me in a whisper, without once calling me Your Highness or Your Honor, what some hooligans did to him and his brother David in Odessa and what some Gentile boys did to him at his Polish school in Vilna, and the girls joined in too, and the next day, when his father, Grandpa Alexander, came to the school to register a complaint, the bullies refused to return the torn trousers but attacked his father, Grandpa, in front of his eyes, forced him down onto the paving stones in the middle of the playground and removed his trousers too, and the girls laughed and made dirty jokes, saying that the Jews were all so-and-sos, while the teachers watched and said nothing, or maybe they were laughing too.

And still in a voice of darkness with his hand still losing its way in my hair (because he was not used to stroking me), my father told me under my blanket in the early hours of November 30,1947, "Bullies may well bother you in the street or at school someday. They may do it precisely because you are a bit like me. But from now on, from the moment we have our own state, you will never be bullied just because you are a Jew and because Jews are so-and-sos. Not that. Never again. From tonight that's finished here. Forever."
I reached out sleepily to touch his face, just below his high forehead, and all of a sudden instead of his glasses my fingers met tears. Never in my life, before or after that night, not even when my mother died, did I see my father cry. And in fact I didn't see him cry that night either: it was too dark. Only my left hand saw.

A few hours later, at seven o'clock, while we and probably all our neighbors were asleep, shots were fired in Sheikh Jarrah at a Jewish ambulance that was on its way from the city center to Hadassah Hospital on Mount Scopus. All over the country Arabs attacked Jewish buses on the highways, killed and wounded passengers, and fired with light arms and machine guns into outlying suburbs and isolated settlements. The Arab Higher Committee headed by Jamal Husseini declared a general strike and sent the crowds into the streets and mosques, where religious leaders called for a jihad against the Jews. A couple of days later, hundreds of armed Arabs came out of the Old City, singing bloodthirsty songs, roaring verses from the Qur'an, howling "idbah al-Yahud" (butcher the Jews), and firing volleys in the air. The English police accompanied them, and British armored cars, it was reported, led the crowd that burst into the Jewish shopping center at the eastern end of Mamilla Road and looted and set fire to the whole area. Forty shops were burned down. British soldiers and policemen formed barriers across Princess Mary Street and prevented the defense forces of the Haganah from coming to the help of the Jews who were caught in the shopping center, and even confiscated their arms and arrested sixteen of them. The following day, in retaliation, the paramilitary Irgun burned down the Rex Cinema, which was apparently under Arab ownership.

In the first week of the troubles some twenty Jews were killed. By the end of the second week about two hundred Jews and Arabs has died throughout the country. From the beginning of December 1947 until March 1948 the initiative was in the hands of the Arab forces; the Jews in Jerusalem and elsewhere had to content themselves with static defense, because the British thwarted the Haganah's attempts to launch counterattacks, arrested its men, and confiscated their weapons. Local semiregular Arab forces, together with hundreds of armed volunteers from the neighboring Arab countries and some two hundred British soldiers who had defected to the Arabs and fought beside them, blocked the highways and reduced the Jewish presence to a fragmented mosaic of beleaguered settlements and blocks of settlements that could be kept supplied with food, fuel, and ammunition only by means of convoys.

While the British still continued to govern and used their power mainly to help the Arabs in their war and to tie the Jews' hands, Jewish Jerusalem was gradually cut off from the rest of the country. The only road linking it with Tel Aviv was blocked by Arab forces, and convoys carrying food and supplies were able to make their way up from the coast only at irregular intervals and at the cost of heavy losses. By the end of December 1947, the Jewish parts of Jerusalem were de facto under siege. Regular Iraqi forces, whom the British administration had allowed to take control of the waterworks at Rosh ha-Ayin, blew up the pumping installations and Jewish Jerusalem was left without water, apart from wells and reservoirs. Isolated Jewish areas like the Jewish Quarter within the walls of the Old City, Yemin Moshe, Mekor Hayim, and Ramat Rahel underwent a siege within a siege as they were cut off from the other Jewish parts of the city. An “emergency committee” set up by the Jewish Agency supervised the rationing of food the tankers that traveled the streets between bouts of shelling distributing a bucket of water per person every two or three days. Bread, vegetables, sugar, milk, eggs, and other foodstuffs were strictly rationed and were distributed to families under a system of food coupons, until supplies ran out and instead we received occasional meager rations of powdered milk, dry rusks, and strange-smelling egg powder. Drugs and medical supplies had almost run out. The wounded were sometimes operated on without anesthetic. The electricity supply collapsed, and since it was virtually impossible to obtain paraffin, we lived for several months in the dark, or by candlelight.

Our cramped basement-like apartment was turned into a kind of bomb shelter for the residents of the apartments above us, being safer from shelling and shooting. All the windowpanes were taken out, and we barricaded the windows with sandbags. We lived in uninterrupted cavelike darkness, night and day, from March 1948 until the following August or September. In this thick darkness, breathing fetid air that had no escape, we were joined at intervals by some twenty or twenty-five persons, neighbors, strangers, acquaintances, refugees from the front-line neighborhoods, who slept on mattresses and mats. They included two very elderly women who sat all day on the floor in the corridor staring into space, a half-crazed old man who called himself the Prophet Jeremiah and constantly lamented the destruction of Jerusalem and foretold for all of us Arab gas chambers near Ramallah “where they’ve already started gassing 2,100 Jews per day,” as well as Grandpa Alexander and Grandma Shlomit, and Grandpa Alezandar’s widowed elder brother (Aunt Tsipora had died in 1946), Uncle Joseph himself-Professor Klausner-with his sister-in-law Haya Elitsedek: the two of them had managed, virtually at the last minute, to escape from Talpiot, which was cut off and encircled, and taken refuge with us. Now the two lay fully dressed, with their shoes on, alternately dozing and waking-because on account of the darkness it was hard to tell night from day-on the floor in our tiny kitchen, which was considered the least noisy place in the apartment. (Mr. Agnon, too, we were told, had left Talpiot with his wife and was staying with friends in Rehavia.)

Uncle Joseph was constantly lamenting, in his reedy, rather tearful voice, the fate of his library and his precious manuscripts, which he had had to leave behind in Talpiot and who knew if he would ever see them again. As for Haya Elitsedek, her only son, Ariel, had joined up and was fighting to defend Talpiot, and for a long time we did not know if he was alive or killed, wounded or taken prisoner.*

The Miudovniks, whose son Grisha was serving somewhere with the Palmach, had fled from their home on the front line in Beit Yisrael, and they too had landed up in our apartment, along with various other families who crowded together in the little room that had been my room before the war. I regarded Mr. Miudovnik with awe, because it emerged that he was the man who had written the greenish book that we all used at Tachkemoni School: Arithmetic for Third-Graders by Matityahu Miudovnik.

Mr. Miudovnik went out one morning and did not return by evening. He did not come back the next day either. So his wife went to the municipal mortuary, had a good look around, and came back happy and reassured because her husband was not among the dead.

When Mr. Miudovnik did not return the next day either, my father began to joke, as he usually did when he wanted to banish silence or dispel gloom. Our dear Matya, he declared, has obviously found himself some fighting beauty in a khaki skirt and now he's her comrade in arms (this was his feeble attempt at a pun).
But after a quarter of an hour of this labored jollity Father suddenly turned serious and went off to the morgue himself, where, thanks to a pair of his own socks that he had lent to Matityahu Miudovnik, he managed to identify the body that had been smashed by an artillery shell; Mrs. Miudovnik had failed to recognize it because the face was missing.

During the months of the siege, my mother, my father, and I slept on a mattress at the end of the corridor, and all night long processions of people clambered over us on their way to the toilet, which stank to high heaven because there was no water to flush it and because the window was blocked with sandbags. Every few minutes, when a shell landed, the whole hill shook, and the stone-built houses shuddered too. I was sometimes woken by the sound of bloodcurdling cries whenever one of the other sleepers in the apartment had a nightmare.

On February 1 a car bomb exploded outside the building of the English-language Jewish newspaper, the Palestine Post. The building was completely destroyed and suspicion fell on British policemen who had deserted to the Arab cause. On February 10 the defenders of Yemin Moshe managed to repel a heavy attack by semiregular Arab troops. On Sunday, February 22, at ten past six in the morning, an organization calling itself the "British Fascist Army" blew up three trucks loaded with dynamite in Ben Yehuda Street, in the heart of Jewish Jerusalem. Six-story buildings were reduced to rubble and a large part of the street was left in ruins. Fifty-two Jewish residents were killed in their homes, and some hundred and fifty were injured.

That day my shortsighted father went to the National Guard HQ that had been set up in a narrow lane off Zephaniah Street and offered to enlist. He had to admit that his previous military experience was limited to composing some illegal posters in English for the Irgun ("Shame on Perfidious Albion!," "Down with Nazi British repression!,' and such).
On March 11 the American consul general's familiar car, with the consul general's Arab driver at the wheel, drove into the courtyard of the Jewish Agency building, the site of the offices of the Jewish organizations in Jerusalem and the country as a whole. Part of the building was destroyed and dozens of people were killed or injured. In the third week of March attempts to bring convoys of food and supplies up from the coast failed: the siege grew worse, and the city was on the brink of starvation, short of water, and at risk of epidemic.

The schools in our area had been closed since mid-December 1947. We children from the third and fourth grades at Tachkemoni and the House of Education were assembled one morning in an empty apartment in Malachi Street. A suntanned youth casually dressed in khaki and smoking a cigarette, who was introduced to us only by his code name, Garibaldi, addressed us in very serious tones for some twenty minutes, with a kind of wry matter-of-factness that we had previously encountered only in grown-ups. Garibaldi gave us the task of searching all the yards and storage sheds for empty sacks ("We'll fill them with sand) and bottles ("Someone knows how to fill them with a cocktail that the enemy will find very tasty").

We were also taught to collect wild mallow, which we all called by its Arabic name, khubeizeh, on plots of wasteland or in neglected backyards. This khubeizeh helped relieve the horrors of starvation somewhat. Mothers boiled or fried it and then used it to make rissoles or puree, which was green like spinach but tasted much worse. We also had a lookout round: every hour during daylight two of us kids had to keep watch from a suitable rooftop in Obadiah Street on the British army camp in Schneller Barracks, and every now and then one of us ran to the operations room in the apartment on Malachi Street to tell Garibaldi or one of his adjutants what the Tommies were up to and whether there were any signs of preparations for departure.

The bigger boys, from the fourth and fifth grades, were taught by Garibaldi to carry messages between the various Haganah posts at the end of Zephaniah Street and around the Bukharian Quarter. My mother begged me to "show real maturity and give up these childish games," but I couldn't do as she wanted. I was particularly good at collecting bottles: in a single week I managed to collect 146 empty bottles and take them in boxes and sacks to HQ. Garibaldi himself gave me slap on the back and shot me a sidelong glance. I record here exactly the words he spoke to me as he scratched the hair on his chest through his open shirt: "Very nice. We may hear more of you one day." Word for word. Fifty-three years have gone by, and I have not forgotten to this day.

*My father's cousin Ariel Elitsedek wrote about his experiences in the war of Liberation in h= book The Thirsty Sword (Jerusalem: Ahiasaf, 1950).

Conflict and Compromise Since 1948

Conflict:
            Although the United Nations brokered an end to 1948 war between Israel and the Arab countries, the area remained unstable. Both sides built up their military capacities in preparation for further conflict. In the meantime, many Palestinians, frustrated by the refugee crisis and the reduction in their political and economic position, joined resistance groups. In 1964, a number of these groups merged to form the Palestinian Liberation Organization (PLO), which soon came under the leadership of Yasser Arafat.
            War erupted between Israel and its Arab neighbors several times over the next decades: in 1956, 1967, and 1973. The Six Day War of 1967 was especially significant as Israel took over and occupied the Sinai Peninsula, the Golan Heights, Gaza, the West Bank, and East Jerusalem. Not only was Israel now several times larger than in 1948, but one million Palestinians had come under Israeli rule. In addition, over 200,000 more Palestinians became refugees (mostly going to Jordan). Beginning in 1977, Israeli prime minister Menachem Begin launched a campaign to establish Jewish settlements in the occupied territories. Although the settlement policy was controversial among Israelis, approximately 120,000 Jewish settlers went to East Jerusalem and 100,000 to the West Bank and Gaza. As a result of the settlements, Palestinians lost more of their land and saw their freedom of movement limited. Palestinian guerillas attacked settlers and others within Israel; the Israeli army struck out at Palestinians. Civilian casualties mounted on both sides. The conflict spread to neighboring Lebanon, where the PLO and Israeli army both took an active role in the Lebanese Civil War. A vicious cycle ensued: Israelis, citing security concerns, limited the political, economic, and travel capability of Palestinians, while Palestinians, frustrated by their treatment at the hands of Israelis, increased their resistance activities. The United States periodically attempted to start peace negotiations, but its tendency to be more sympathetic to Israeli concerns reduced the effectiveness of these efforts.
            By late 1987, the Palestinians were in open revolt, a spontaneous movement which came to be called the “intifada” (Arabic for “resistance” or “shaking off”). Hundreds of thousands of Palestinians, mostly young people, participated in civil disobedience (refusal to pay taxes, boycotts, strikes) and in throwing rocks at Israeli troops. The Israeli army responded with force, killing over 1,000 Palestinians, hundreds of whom were children under the age of 16. Israel began to draw criticism, both at home and abroad, for its treatment of Palestinian civilians. Similarly, Palestinian bombing attacks targeted Israeli civilians.
            The suffering on both sides led to peace negotiations beginning in 1991, but the failure to achieve a lasting settlement resulted in a second intifada beginning in 2000. More negotiations have resulted, but there is still tension and violence to this day.

3. Control of Jerusalem. This city is holy to Jews, Muslims, and Christians. The problem: Who should control it, or how should control be shared?

            As the violence took an increasing toll on both sides, there have been efforts to achieve a peaceful settlement. In September 1978, during a conference at Camp David organized by American president Jimmy Carter, Israeli prime minister Menachem Begin and Egyptian president Anwar Sadat signed a peace agreement between the two countries, which led to an Israeli withdrawal from Sinai. However, even though Israel and Egypt had begun negotiations, conflicts within Israel were escalating.
            Direct talks between Palestinian and Israeli authorities only began in 1991. Under pressure from the United States and the Soviet Union, a series of talks was held in Madrid, Spain, between the Israeli government, individual Arab states, and the PLO. However, some Israeli and Palestinian leaders sought a less public and politically charged environment and entered into secret discussions in Norway. The result was the signing of the Oslo Accords by Israeli leader Yitzhak Rabin and PLO leader Yasser Arafat in 1993.
            According to the Oslo Agreement, Israel would withdraw forces from Gaza and the West Bank town of Jericho and grant greater autonomy to the Palestinians. Eventually Palestinians would be able to elect a Self-Government Authority in these areas. In return, the PLO agreed to recognize the state of Israel, a step that Israelis felt was vital to their security. Soon a Palestinian Authority was established under Arafat, and Jordan had joined Egypt in recognizing the state of Israel. Critics of the Oslo Accords charge that the agreement did not address many of the serious issues that still divided the two peoples.
            Unfortunately, these issues were never resolved, and both sides failed to honor parts of the agreement. Israel increased its settlements in Palestinian lands, and Palestinians responded by increasing attacks on settlers. Extremism on both sides led to a further escalation of the conflict. In early 1994, an Israeli terrorist killed 30 Muslim worshippers in a mosque in Hebron, and Palestinian terrorists retaliated with a series of suicide bombings.   The peace process quickly broke down.
            In 2000, the suffering of both groups led to further attempts at negotiation. Israeli leader Ehud Barak and Palestinian leader Yasser Arafat met at Camp David to seek a resolution of the conflict. It soon became evident, though, that the fundamental issues dividing the two peoples are difficult to resolve. No definitive agreement was reached, and the peace process remains stalled to the present day. Recent developments have added a further element of uncertainty. Yasser Arafat died in November 2004, and just over a year later (January 2006), the more militant Hamas party was elected to leadership positions in the Palestinian Authority. Israel has also assumed a more militant policy: In summer 2006, an Israeli invasion of Lebanon and attacks on Palestinians there provoked an international outcry. Peace talks resumed in late November 2007 in Annapolis, Maryland, but it remains to be seen whether agreement can be reached.

Tasting the Sky: A Palestinian Childhood

The war came to us at sundown. Mother had just announced that our lentil-and-rice dinner would be ready as soon as Father arrived. She picked up Maha, my infant sister, held out a plump breast, and began to rock and feed her. I was three and a half years old but still wanted to be the one rocking in my mother's arms.

My two brothers, the noisy inseparables-Basel, six and a half, and Muhammad, a year younger - were chasing each other around Mother's summer garden. I stood at the door awaiting my father. Soon I would see him emerge from the curtain of evening shadows on the long gravel road that led to our home. As I did every evening, I was preparing to run toward him with all my might.
But because I owned one pair of shoes, and was allowed to wear them only on important occasions, I was barefoot.
(………)
close. His other arm enclosed Mother. She was frantically trying to quiet Maha, whose siren cries threatened to draw fatal attention to our hiding place. Because there was no room for love and lullabies in the narrow trench, Mother snapped sharply at Maha, who quickly stopped her crying.
My parents exchanged anxious whispers. "Think with me," Mother urged. "What else should we do to be safer?"
"There is no escape from destiny," Father replied, his voice filled with pain.
I reached for him and held on to him firmly. I felt that something beyond what I'd learned or would ever understand was about to happen to us. My father would not be able to protect us. He could not make the war stop. He could not talk to the people in the planes and tell them that we had done nothing wrong.
            As darkness enveloped us, I could not see the faces of my parents or my brothers. Then, suddenly, Mother whispered that she could hear footsteps. My father ordered us to freeze. I stopped myself from breathing.
            We quickly realized the footsteps were those of a stream of people from neighboring villages fleeing their homes. Raising his voice just loud enough so they could hear him, Father asked what they knew. A man’s voice answered. “After the planes attack, they will be combing the area house by house. Word is that they will butcher every living thing they find.”
            My parents exchanged a few words, then quickly agreed. It was time for us to leave. “Death in a group is mercy,” Father said.

“First I must get into the house, “ Mother interrupted. “We need food for the children,” she pressed. And she was right. Hunger was pecking inside my stomach like a bird.
            “Then don’t light even a match,” my father cautioned her. And so Mother tucked my silent sister into his arms and set out for our house.
            But before we could settle into the thought that food was in reach, a loud, pulsing noise sliced through the dark. Bullets were being fired at Mother!
            “Yamma!” my brothers and I exploded. But our father shushed us into silence. Then the noise of the planes filled the darkness everywhere. One plane seemed to be right above us, seeding the ground around us with bullets and bombs, and as it trailed off into the distance, it set nearby patches of the darkness afire. It was impossible to tell which side of the sky would be the next to blaze.
            Dad flung himself out of the trench. He found Mother’s foot and pulled her back down to us. Frightened and confused, she searched herself for a fatal injury. “Suleiman,” she begged my father, “I want to see my children one last time before I die.” But the darkness surrounding us was merciless.
            Father held Mother to his chest. “Mirriam, they missed,” he whispered. Miraculously, she had escaped injury, and the warmth in Dad’s voice allowed blood to flow again through my veins.
            Mother, shocked, had nothing to say. Then, suddenly, she demanded that we leave.
            It seemed strange, but she picked up Maha and began walking toward the house. Basel, Muhammed and I leapt after her as my father prayed hysterically that we come to no harm.
            Inside the house, Mother snatched the pot of lentils and rice from the kitchen and wrapped it in a rag. The she dashed into the darkness and searched for a bundle of golden bracelets that had been her dowry when she and my father married. I could hear her sigh of relief when she found them.
            Mother then commanded that we put on our shoes. But I could not find mine, and the house was black as coal. “Yamma, where are my shoes?” I cried.
            “Find them!” she ordered. My brothers and I obediently searched until all three of us found our shoes, then hurried outside.
            Now my parents spoke urgently. My father said that if we didn’t die that night, we’d have to sleep in the wilderness. We’d need clothes and blankets. When he came out of the house with a mound in his arms, he and Mother argued over whether or not to lock the door. They finally agreed: we would lock it and take the key with us.
            People continued to pass by our house, spreading word of impending terror. A breathless man told my father that there was no one left in his village. He and the others were going to hide in the caves, then try to cross the bridge at the border to Jordan.
            “Which caves?” Father asked.
            “Just run with us,” the man replied before disappearing into darkness.
            Father turned to Mother. “We must leave now,” he said. His voice was sharp like a knife.
            My brothers were ready. They held each other’s hands tightly. Mother had secured Maha between her arms. My father strained to see the road from behind the mound of clothes and blankets he carried. But in spite of my desperate attempts to obey my parents’ commands, my three-and-a-half-year-old hands were unable to lace up the one shoe I had put on. My right foot was still shoeless.
            “Yamma, Yaba! Help me!” I cried in a hushed voice, lest I attract attention and we all die. But no one answered.
            At that moment a new wave of fleeting villagers rushed by. As they disappeared, everything faded into stillness. And my family was gone.
            Had they just walked into the crowd and left me behind? Fear dug a hole in my heart. I could not grasp what had happened. I wanted to cry aloud, hurl their names across the darkness, but dread stifled my voice. I knew the only hope for me was to instantly run in the same direction, leaving one shoe behind.
            As I moved, sounds of distant gunshots and screeching swelled and then subsided. I kept running. When I looked behind, I could no longer see the giant shadow of our home. The world within and around me seemed to fade into the unknown. The gravel grated sharply into my skin. Once again, I commanded myself not to feel.
            Soon, my ears detected voices. I waited cautiously, and when people approached, I attached myself to the end of their caravan.
            Settling into the rhythm of this rapidly moving crowd, I could hear voices talking about a group of neighbors they expected to meet at the caves. The caves? My parents were heading toward the caves! My heart filled with hope that my family would be there.
            But my hopes disappeared with flare bombs lit up the darkness and formed a dome of light in the sky. Silhouettes of everyone suddenly became visible. Now the warplanes could locate us. Would real bombs follow?
            Anticipating the moment of final destruction, people prayed aloud. They said that Allah is one. But as the lights and sounds of distant bombardment continued and no bombs fell directly on us, it became clear that neighboring areas were the immediate targets of attack.
            We continued on, slowly sinking into a solemn calm. I saw that we were joining other clusters of people, as ghostly and stunned as we were. Among those ahead of us, I thought I saw my mother, her thick, dark braid waggling on her back.
            Our group hurried to catch up to the group in front of us, and my numbed feet flew forward. The lights in the sky came and went, but I kept my eyes on the braid. I fell repeatedly, but quickly got up. My eyes never wavered. I was determined to reach my mother. I pushed myself closer and closer to where I thought I saw her until I was only a few steps behind her braid. When my fingers finally touched her dress, the war seemed to halt.
            Thinking that I was with my mother again, I could see that I had lost the one unlaced shoe I’d had on. I began to feel the feverish fire in my feet. I let myself weep a little, hoping my mother would hear me, then I pulled on her dress and let it take my weight. The respite lasted only seconds, however. As new flares flashed, a strange face turned to scold me. “Who are you?” she asked as she shook her dress free from my hand. Now I could see. The woman was not my mother.
            In shocked disbelief, I dropped my hands to my sides, gripped my own dress, and could feel neither terror nor pain. My eyes searched for no one, and it barely mattered whether I walked alone or had people around. I could only put one foot in front of the other.
            When we approached the area of the caves, I leaned that there were many caves, in different places. Anxious voices pierced the air: should we hide or continue on? Some settled for hiding. But I found myself walking with those who chose to continue on until we arrived at the road that would lead to Jordan. It was deeply dark here, like everywhere else. So we waited for a long time for the night to be over.
            When dawn finally lit up the world, I saw I was surrounded by a large crowd. No one spoke to me, and I stared at the children who were clinging to their parents. I envied them having a hand to hold on to while I had none.
            People were gazing into the sky as though a long line of unanswered prayers hung from it. They were cursing as they struggled to swallow their grief. They begged one another for a drink of water and begged God for mercy.
            I wandered aimlessly, staring at strange face after strange face. And then, suddenly, I thought I saw my dad. “Yaba!” I called in a low voice, hoping it wasn’t a mistake again. But he turned to me. Tears streamed down his face. Now I was certain.
            Next to him stood Mother, holding my sister to her chest. My father and brothers hurried to meet me, holding out their arms. Muhammed, the one who had first noticed that I was missing, offered me his shoes.
            My heart ached, my feet burned, and something in me still felt confused and lost. But I was no longer alone. Once again, I was with my family. Together, we entered the second day of war.
……….
Souma

            The shelter was a three-story stone house. Before we entered, Mother said that she was unsure whether Maha was breathing. “She’s been silent for so long; I don’t have the courage to find out if she’s alive,” Mother confessed. Without saying a word, Hamameh reached down to my sister’s nose. She pinched and held it briefly. To our stunned surprise, Maha coughed and then cried.
            We fought our way into the shelter, which wasn’t much more than a box of strangers packed in like sardines. Every few minutes, sirens went off. “Khatar, khatar,” voices would shout. People would run up the stairs, then run down howling news about fires and bombings they’d seen from the second-and-third-floor windows.
            The sirens were warnings before or after bombardment, and they were always followed by a silent moment of nauseating anticipation of the destruction of our shelter. My brothers and my mother, Hamameh and her children all joined in the stair madness.
            I hung on to my brothers and hopped along until I could no longer tolerate the pain of being elbowed or shoved or having someone step on my injured feet. The cuts I had from running barefoot had begun to swell, making it more and more difficult to walk.
            I decided to sit in a corner of the basement. And there, standing almost invisibly in a cloud of dark and quietness, was a baby donkey. At first I could not believe my eyes. For one brief moment, the surprise made me forget everything else. I raised my arms and touched his face; he remained still. I spoke to him; he looked at me and listened. I knelt on the ground and pulled him toward me. He did not resist. I named him Souma and embraced him with my whole heart.
            I stayed with Souma until the air raids subsided. But then the howling of stray dogs began. The war had awakened their pack instinct. They came to the city searching for food and corners to hide in. They sniffed, clawed, grunted, and yelped in frightening demon voices. Souma’s ears stood like antennas measuring the danger. We were only one wooden door away from them.
            “Be warned!” someone shouted outside. Expecting loud noises, I covered my head and plugged my ears with my fingers. But that did not keep me from hearing gunshots as bullets entered the bodies of the strays. An anxious cheer or two accompanied the shooting.
            The packs retreated, but the injured dogs were left crying in voices that grew smaller and smaller until they resembled the whimpers of infants. Tears soaked my face. I knew that they were dying and that they had come to our door only because, like us, they were seeking refuge. But instead of understanding, we shot at them, the way the warplanes shot at us. I listened until there was only silence.

Crawling up the steps, I left Souma in the basement and went to be with the others. The women covered the windows with paper and cloth. They searched for charcoal but found none. Darkened windows would make it difficult for airplanes to notice light from our shelter and target it. The women then unfolded blankets that were stacked against the shelter wall like giant wafers. Children lay on them and formed tiny forts with covers that they drew over their heads. I lay down, too. I fell asleep, but my throbbing feet woke me up again and again. The women did not sleep. Instead, they passed the time telling stories of the war in 1948, embroidering their memories with worry and tears. They only stopped when the call from the minaret of a nearby mosque announced the arrival of a new morning.
            Allahu Akbar, God is greatest. Everyone awake repeated the words. But was God going to end the war today? End our flight and send us home? I wanted to know. We raised our arms above our heads in the shape of empty baskets for God to fill with the day’s rations of our lives.
            The women hoped the darkened windows would allow the children who were still asleep to rest longer. But hunger awakened everyone. Food appeared and disappeared unexpectedly that day—mainly bread and tea were delivered to us when people outside remembered that we had nothing and knew no one around us. The following days were the same. We could never guess when or if we were going to get food.
            Each time we did, however, the youngest and the sickest got their bread and tea first. Mother brought me my share and instructed that I eat every morsel. To check my temperature, she spread her hand on my forehead. She thought I had a fever, so she asked that I lay my cheek against the cool cement floor.
            When I sat up and ate, Mother held my potato-size foot and measured its swollenness. I cried. She disliked my tears. “You will become blind and live in a corner forever if you keep on crying,” she warned as she slammed her eyes shut for a moment to show me blindness.
            I tested my Mother’s warnings. I clenched my eyes and attempted to see what she meant by becoming blind. But I discovered that, with my eyes closed, I saw more. I even saw things that were not around me—our home in Ramallah, the gravel road leading to it, the pine forest behind it, the green spearmint patches on the dry land, and the stone sculptures Father had taught us to build by stacking flat stones into human-looking shapes. He called each stack a qantara, but I called it a stone person. I now saw the qantara my father once built to remind me that he loved me. And I saw the fig tree at the side of our house, alone in the field with one early ripe fruit hanging on a hidden branch. The sparrows had not gotten to it. The fruit hung like a kiss. Its neck was softly tearing. Soon it would be on the ground. Sweet like nectar. The sparrows would feast on it.
            With my eyes still shut, I saw my father appear before me, wearing his green shirt with the bulging chest pocket covering his heart. Inside he kept his tiny black comb and scraps of paper with old and new lists of foods Mother had asked for, and a clip-on pen that poked out near the colorless button. In my mind, I ran and held his hand tightly. I did not want to let go of him. And, suddenly, I understood what Mother meant by the word imagine. I, too, could imagine. Blink. Blink. Blink. I could see anything I wanted to see, anytime I wanted. I needed no one’s permission. And I could close my eyes and hide anywhere in my imagination, making the sounds of war more distant and less alarming.

In a short time, the shelter began to feel like a home, everyone in it belonging to one large family. Mother and Hamameh talked to each other all day long. My brothers spent their time playing with the crowd of shelter children. And Souma the donkey became my best friend; we were inseparable. The strangers of only days ago now remembered each other’s names, the cities they had fled from, and directions to particular neighborhoods. They told of their pain and illnesses, and cried to one another whenever their stories felt to heavy to bear alone. They gave one another messages to pass on if the shelter was attacked and they died. Since no one knew how long the war would last, they decided that all would share the work and take turns sleeping. The women kept the shelter spotless, as if it were a home.
            Our drinking water came from a rain well in the backyard and was stored in a clay urn. The urn had a thin base and could easily be pushed off balance, so only adults handled it. They watched over it carefully, snatching babies who crawled by it or shouting to warn children not to race near it. The urn had a mouth and two ears on its sides. An oversize tin saucer on the top looked like the rim of a man’s hat, so the neck, round belly, and tiny base of the pot made it look like the only man among us.
            Trash was left near the door in a rusted metal barrel. Stubborn flies quickly formed a lid for it until a group of boys rolled the barrel away and set fire to its contents.
            The women who could do so nursed the infants of women whose milk had dried up. It was said, and repeated, that children nursed by the same woman would instantly become siblings and must never marry. Mother nursed only my sister, so we acquired no new siblings. But Mother gained a sister of her own—Hamameh, the driver’s wife.
            The two women agreed that if the war lasted a long time and their husbands did not return, they would help each other through whatever followed. But the war ended six days from the day it had started. For those of us at the shelter, it ended with two words, Bahawenha Allah, spoken amid tears by an ailing main who leaned on a cane as he stood at the shelter’s door.
            All the faces cried, for Bahawenha Allah meant “We have lost so much that only God can ease our loss.” Our loss? I knew that days ago I had lost my shoes and our home. But had everyone else also lost their shoes and their homes? I did not know why all the women, and especially Mother, who warned me often not to cry, were weeping uncontrollably now, tears streaming down their faces.
            I, too, cried and held Souma close to me, because the words cause chaos in the shelter. Then everyone headed outside. I tried to go with them, but my feet, especially my right foot, made it impossible. The pain was too much for me, and I knew that, this time, if everyone left, I would not be able to run after them.

In the following days, everyone but Hamameh, her children, and my family left the shelter for good. Before departing, people shook their heads in sorrow and waved their arms as though to erase the memory of war. We, too, wanted to leave. We waited for Hamameh’s husband and Father to come for us.
            But no one came except a man and a woman whose wrinkled faces reminded me of my grandma. They were Um and Abu Muhammad, who had opened their home to shelter us. They had spent the war days in Amman with their relatives, and now they had returned.
            Um and Abu Muhammed were happy to see all of us who had taken refuge in their home. Though they had not met any of us before, they kissed our cheeks and held us for a long time while thanking Allah for our safety. Mother and Hamameh bent to kiss Um Muhammed’s hand, but she pulled away, refusing any gestures of gratitude. “It’s a duty,” she insisted.
            They invited us to stay in their home as long as we needed to, but Hamameh wanted to find her relatives in Amman. She asked Abu Muhammad if he knew them. He instantly recognized the names. Like Mother and Hamameh, who could recognize the names of many women, even if they were not actual friends, Abu Muhammad knew the names of many men. He sent word to let Hamameh’s relatives know where she and her children were.
            Within a day, a man in a taxi, stirring a cloud of dust as he pulled up at the door, asked for Hamameh. He was her uncle. The time for Hamameh and her children to leave the shelter had finally arrived.
            There was nothing to pack. Hamameh turned to Mother to say goodbye. Suddenly, I was frightened. Was Father going to come for us? Would we know how to get back to Ramallah? Who was going to carry me? I stared at Mother, who silently leaned against the wall. But Hamameh understood her silence.
            “Mirriam, my home is your home,” she said to Mother. “Come with us until the men return.” She tugged at Mother’s shoulder.
            Mother agreed. Um and Abu Muhammed said they would tell my father and Hamameh’s husband where to find us. It was time for us to leave, too. “We’re going,” I cheered into Souma’s big ear, thinking that he had no one in the world but me. I was ready to go anywhere as long as he came with me.
            “We have no space in the car for a donkey,” Mother snapped at me.
            “I won’t leave without him,” I shouted. “Yamma, let him come with us,” I begged. I gripped Souma with all my might as Mother tried to peel me away from him.
Um Muhammad came between us. She quietly said that Souma belonged to her.
“No! He belongs to me,” I protested.
“But he would be so sad to lose his home,” she said.
Now I could see what she meant. And so I let him go.

“Revenge” by Palestinian poet Taha Muhammad Ali
(translated by Peter Cole, Yahya Hijazi, and Gabriel Levin)

But if it came to light,
when my rival appeared,
that he had a mother
waiting for him,
or a father who’d put
his right hand over
the heart’s place in his chest
whenever his son was late
even by just a quarter-hour
for a meeting they’d set—
then I would not kill him,
even if I could.

Likewise ... I
would not murder him
if it were soon made clear
that he had a brother or sisters
who loved him and constantly longed to see him.
Or if he had a wife to greet him
and children who
couldn’t bear his absence
and whom his gifts would thrill.
Or if he had
friends or companions,
neighbors he knew
or allies from prison
or a hospital room,
or classmates from his school …
asking about him
and sending him regards.

But if he turned
out to be on his own—
cut off like a branch from a tree—
without a mother or father,
with neither a brother nor sister,
wifeless, without a child,
and without kin or neighbors or friends,
colleagues or companions,
then I’d add not a thing to his pain
within that aloneness—
not the torment of death,
and not the sorrow of passing away.
Instead I’d be content
to ignore him when I passed him by
on the street—as I
convinced myself
that paying him no attention
in itself was a kind of revenge.

Correspondence Reporting: Assignment, the Middle East
by Bryan Davis, M.Ed.
Language Arts or Social Studies (Middle or High School)

Objective: To ensure students stay abreast of current events in the Middle East while undertaking an exploration of the region’s history. Students will become cognizant of the contemporary manifestations of tensions and conflicts in the region and be able to connect events to their historic roots. Additionally, by examining various reporting on the same event by a variety of sources, students will understand the role of media in shaping public perception.

Procedure: At the outset of this unit of study, each student will choose or be assigned a country that they will become a correspondent for. Each week, or twice a week, the correspondent is responsible for identifying a prevailing news item that is taking place in, or significantly impacting, their country.* The correspondent will locate two pieces of reporting on the event each derived from a different source. The article will be cut or printed out and turned in along with the correspondence report form. Students will have a correspondence report file where all of their reporting will be kept.

In order for students to become acquainted with their country, a useful initial assignment is to have students locate country background information for their country at the BBC World Service: http://www.bbc.co.uk/worldservice/. Select country profile on left side of page. Students can print out the background information and summarize it in one page.

Students will sign up for a variety of dates to present their reporting to the class. Students should be encouraged to identify the event/report they will share in advance and be prepared to answer questions from the class about the event and reporting. As the unit progresses and students become better informed, they should be able to see how events in one Middle Eastern country affect another country. Correspondence reporting is an opportunity to facilitate dialogue and student-led inquiry and investigation.

10-15 minutes can be allotted at the beginning of each class for two or three students to share their reports. Starting class with correspondence reporting provides students occasion to interact, become engaged and share perspectives.

On the day country assignments are given, an explanation of expectations with regard to the correspondence reporting form will be necessary as will an explanation of some terminology.

Middle School: Strand 2: World History
Concept 9: Contemporary World
PO 1. Describe current events using information from class discussions and various resources (e.g., newspapers, magazines, television, Internet, books, maps).
PO 2. Identify the connection between current and historical events and issues studied at this grade level using information from class discussions and various resources (e.g., newspapers, magazines, television, Internet, books, maps).
PO 3. Analyze how world events of the late 20th century and early 21st century affected, and continue to affect, the social, political, geographic, and economic climate of the world (e.g., terrorism, globalization, conflicts, interdependence, natural disasters, advancements in science and technology and environmental issues).

High School: Strand 2: World History
Concept 9: Contemporary World
PO 5. Connect current events with historical events and issues using information from class discussions and various resources (e.g., newspapers, magazines, television, Internet, books, maps).

Assessment: A log can be stapled or clipped to the inside of the correspondence report folder where an ongoing dialogue between teacher and students can be maintained. Each week the teacher will note that the reports have been completed and provide comments on the reporting. Correspondence report folders should be readily available to students in order for them to leave questions and comments for the teacher.

Middle Eastern countries to choose from: Algeria, Bahrain, Egypt, Iran, Iraq, Israel, Jordan, Kuwait, Lebanon, Libya, Mauritania, Morocco, Oman, Palestinian Territories, Qatar, Saudi Arabia, Sudan, Syria, Tunisia, United Arab Emirates, Yemen

* Be clear that students are to be locating major events with widespread social, political, military or economic consequences. Reporting on bank robberies or plane crashes is not what we are looking for.

How does the event detailed in the article impact the citizens of your country? How does the event impact the country’s neighbors?

Creation of the State of Israel: A United Nations Special Session
By Bryan Davis, M.Ed.
8th Grade Social Studies

Objective: As a corollary to a larger study of WWII and the Holocaust, students will examine the establishment of the state of Israel as a result of the long history of European anti-semitism, Zionism and the sense of urgency felt in the wake of Hitler’s Final Solution.

Note: This lesson presupposes familiarity with European anti-semitism and Zionism.

Background Information: Following WWI, several former Ottoman provinces, including Palestine, were placed under the administration of Great Britain. The British Mandate lasted from 1920-1948.

During the period of the British Mandate, Zionists continued to encourage Jewish immigration to Palestine. Hundreds of thousands of Jews immigrated to Palestine during the 1920s and 1930s. The result was a growing animosity between Zionists and Arabs though it is important to note that friendly relations were maintained between Arab and Jewish communities as well.

A confluence of factors including violent clashes, widespread social unrest and an inability to control Jewish immigration especially as it escalated with the massive displacement which resulted from Nazi persecution, led the British to abandon their mandate in Palestine in 1948.

In 1947 the United Nations established a special committee which recommended the establishment of separate Jewish and Palestinian states. The Arab High Committee, representing Palestinians, rejected the proposal while the Jewish Agency accepted it. The plan designated 56% of Palestine to the creation of a Jewish state while 44% was allotted for an Arab state. (see UN Partition Map)

Hostilities between Jews and Palestinians continued to escalate. On May 14, 1948 the State of Israel was proclaimed. The following day the last British troops left. Five Arab armies, Jordan, Syria, Lebanon, Egypt and Iraq, invaded Israel on May 15 and were soundly defeated. Palestinians recall May 15, 1948 as al-Nakba, the catastrophe. For Israelis it is the “War of Independence.”

Procedures: Analyze the maps of British Mandate Palestine, UN Partition Plan and 1949 Armistice Line and place students in the position of geo-political strategists representing United Nations delegations from Israel, Palestine, Great Britain and the United States. Students will need to research their positions prior to taking part in a UN Special Session dedicated to evaluating the partition plan.

Students will need to be aware of how the borders are uniquely important to their delegations and be prepared to advance and defend their positions.
Standards:

Strand 2: World History
Concept 1: Research Skills for History
PO 2. Interpret historical data displayed in graphs, tables, and charts.
PO 4. Formulate questions that can be answered by historical study and research.
PO 7. Analyze cause and effect relationships between and among individuals and/or historical events.
PO 8. Analyze two points of view on the same historical event.
Concept 8: World at War
PO 8. Describe the following events resulting from World War II:
e. creation of Israel

Israel founded: UN partition plan
The United Nations General Assembly decided in 1947 on the partition of Palestine into Jewish and Arab states, with Jerusalem to be an international city. The plan, which was rejected by the native Arabs, was never implemented.

Israel founded: Armistice
War broke out in 1948 when Britain withdrew, the Jews declared the state of Israel and troops from neighbouring Arab nations moved in. After eight months of fighting an armistice line was agreed, establishing the West Bank and Gaza Strip as distinct geographical units.

Six-Day War: Before the war
From 1948 to 1967, the West Bank, including East Jerusalem, was ruled by Jordan. During this period, the Gaza Strip was under Egyptian military administration. Israeli troops captured Egypt's Sinai peninsula during the 1956 British, French and Israeli military campaign in response to the nationalisation of the Suez Canal. The Israelis subsequently withdrew and were replaced with a UN force. In 1967, Egypt ordered the UN troops out and blocked Israeli shipping routes - adding to already high levels of tension between Israel and its neighbours.

Six-Day War: After the war
In a pre-emptive attack on Egypt that drew Syria and Jordan into a regional war in 1967, Israel made massive territorial gains capturing the West Bank, Gaza Strip, Golan Heights and the Sinai Peninsula up to the Suez Canal. The principle of land-for-peace that has formed the basis of Arab-Israeli negotiations is based on Israel giving up land won in the 1967 war in return for peace deals recognising Israeli borders and its right to security. The Sinai Peninsula was returned to Egypt as part of the 1979 peace deal with Israel.

Reshaping the Middle East - Covert Agreements and Overt
Declarations: Hussein-McMahon Correspondence, Sykes Picot Agreement and the Balfour Declaration
By Bryan Davis, M.Ed.
7th Grade Social Studies

Objective: Through an analysis of the Hussein-McMahon correspondence (1915), the Sykes-Picot agreement (1916) and the Balfour Declaration (1917), students will understand how 20th century European imperial designs:

Background information: In the midst of WWI, European nations engaged in covert agreements and overt declarations detailing their intentions to carve the Middle East into spheres of influence and specifying how those spheres would be managed. The Sykes Picot agreement and the Balfour Declaration have become enduring symbols of the early 20th century European impact on the post-Ottoman Middle East.

Theodor Herzl and the First Zionist Congress: In response to centuries of anti-Semitism in Europe and to European ideas of nationalism, Theodor Herzl initiated the Zionist movement with the publication of his book, Der Judenstaat, (The Jewish State). Zionism began as a political movement with the goal of creating a Jewish state in Palestine. In 1897, Herzl brought supporters of his ideas together in Switzerland to articulate the movement’s objectives and strategies.

Sykes Picot agreement (1916): A secret agreement between Sir Mark Sykes of England and Georges Picot of France detailing the divvying up of a post-war Middle East. According to an interpretation of the agreement codified by a mandate system sanctioned by the newly established League of Nations (1922), Syria and Lebanon went to the French and the British took control of Palestine and three Ottoman provinces of Mesopotamia (Mosul, Baghdad and Basra) which comprise modern-day Iraq.

Balfour Declaration (1917): Twenty years after Herzl organized the First Zionist Congress, Great Britain declared itself in favor of the creation of a national homeland for the Jewish people in Palestine by way of a letter authored by British Foreign Secretary Lord Arthur James Balfour addressed to Lord Rothschild, a leader of the Jewish community in Britain.

As part of a larger exploration of 19th and early 20th century European imperialism and WWI, analyze these critical agreements, declarations and mandates.

Lesson I: Hussein-McMahon Correspondence (see full text of letters)

Deborah J. Gerner, Professor of Political Science at the University of Kansas, in her 1994 book entitled One Land, Two Peoples: The Conflict Over Palestine p. 28, wrote the following:

"The Hussein-McMahon correspondence between Sharif Hussein of Mecca, governor of the Hijaz province of Arabia, and Sir Henry McMahon, the British high commissioner to Egypt, represents one of the most controversial aspects of British involvement in the Middle East. In a series of eight letters written between 14 July 1915 and 30 January 1916, the two men negotiated the terms under which Hussein would encourage the Arabs to revolt against the Ottoman Empire and enter World War I on the side of the Allies. In particular, Hussein demanded British recognition of the independence of the Arab areas of the Ottoman Empire now known as Syria, Iraq, Jordan, Israel, the West Bank and Gaza, and Saudi Arabia. Under the assumption of British support for Arab independence as discussed in the letters, Hussein led the Arab revolt against the Ottoman Empire that began on 5 June 1916. The Arabs faced disappointment once the war ended, however, when McMahon and Hussein disagreed on what areas had been included in the territory to be granted independence. In particular, McMahon later claimed he never meant to guarantee the independence of Palestine, while Hussein believed Palestine was included in the commitment. The letters themselves, which were kept secret for a number of years, are ambiguous, and their interpretation has been a subject of great controversy."

Excerpts:
Translation of a letter from McMahon to Husayn, August 30, 1915

To his Highness the Sherif Hussein.
(After compliments and salutations.)

WE have the honour to thank you for your frank expressions of the sincerity of your feeling towards England. We rejoice, moreover, that your Highness and your people are of one opinion-that Arab interests are English interests and English Arab. To this intent 'we confirm to you the terms of Lord Kitchener's message, which reached you by the hand of Ali Effendi, and in which was stated clearly our desire for the independence of Arabia and its inhabitants, together with our approval of the Arab Khalifate when it should be proclaimed. We declare once more that His Majesty's Government would welcome the resumption of the Khalifate by an Arab of true race. With regard to the questions of limits and boundaries, it would appear to be premature to consume our time in discussing such details in the heat of war, and while, in many portions of them, the Turk is up to now in effective occupation; especially as we have learned, with surprise and regret, that some of the Arabs in those very parts, far from assisting us, are neglecting this their supreme opportunity and are lending their arms to the German and the Turk, to the new despoiler and the old oppressor.

Translation of a letter from Husayn to McMahon, September 9, 1915
It is necessary to make clear to your Excellency our sincerity towards the illustrious British Empire and our confession of preference for it in all cases and matters and under all forms and circumstances. The real interests of the followers of our religion necessitate this.

Nevertheless, your Excellency will pardon me and permit me to say clearly that the coolness and hesitation which you have displayed in the question of the limits and boundaries by saying that the discussion of these at present is of no use and is a loss of time, and that they are still in the hands of the Government which is ruling them, &c., might be taken to infer an estrangement or something of the sort.

As the limits and boundaries demanded are not those of one person whom we should satisfy and with whom we should discuss them after the war is over, but our peoples have seen that the life of their new proposal is bound at least by these limits and their word is united on this.

Therefore, they have found it necessary first to discuss this point with the Power in whom they now have their confidence and trust as a final appeal, viz., the illustrious British Empire.

Translation of a letter from McMahon to Husayn, October 24, 1915

I regret that you should have received from my last letter the impression that I regarded the question of the limits and boundaries with coldness and hesitation; such was not the case, but it appeared to me that the time had not yet come when that question could be discussed in a conclusive manner.

I have realised, however, from your last letter that you regard this question as one of vital and urgent importance. I have, therefore, lost no time in informing the Government of Great Britain of the contents of your letter, and it is with great pleasure that I communicate to you on their behalf the following statement, which I am confident you will receive with satisfaction:-

The two districts of Mersina and Alexandretta and portions of Syria lying to the west of the districts of Damascus, Homs, Hama and Aleppo cannot be said to be purely Arab, and should be excluded from the limits demanded.

With the above modification, and without prejudice of our existing treaties with Arab chiefs, we accept those limits.

As for those regions lying within those frontiers wherein Great Britain is free to act without detriment to the interest of her ally, France, I am empowered in the name of the Government of Great Britain to give the following assurances and make the following reply to your letter:-

1. Subject to the above modifications, Great Britain is prepared to recognize and support the independence of the Arabs in all the regions within the limits demanded by the Sherif of Mecca.
2. Great Britain will guarantee the Holy Places against all external aggression and will recognise their inviolability.
3. When the situation admits, Great Britain will give to the Arabs her advice and will assist them to establish what may appear to be the most suitable forms of government in those various territories.
4. On the other hand, it is understood that the Arabs have decided to seek the advice and guidance of Great Britain only, and that such European advisers and officials as may be required for the formation of a sound form of administration will be British.
5. With regard to the vilayets of Bagdad and Basra, the Arabs will recognise that the established position and interests of Great Britain necessitate special administrative arrangements in order to secure these territories from foreign aggression, to promote the welfare of the local populations and to safeguard our mutual economic interests.

I am convinced that this declaration will assure you beyond all possible doubt of the sympathy of Great Britain towards the aspirations of her friends the Arabs and will result in a firm and lasting alliance, the immediate results of which will be the expulsion of the Turks from the Arab countries and the freeing of the Arab peoples from the Turkish yoke, which for so many years has pressed heavily upon them.

I have confined myself in this letter to the more vital and important questions, and if there are any other matters dealt with in your letter which I have omitted to mention, we may discuss them at some convenient date in the future.

Procedures:

After reading excerpts of the Hussein-McMahon correspondence, write a retrospective letter to McMahon expressing your understanding of the promises entailed in the letters and their legacy with regard to Middle Eastern/European relations.

As the letters have been the subject of much scrutiny and countless interpretations, students will make sense of the letters and their ramifications for themselves. Specific attention should be given to:

Strand 2: World History
Concept 7: Age of Imperialism
PO 1. Describe the effects
of the following factors on the rise of imperialism:
c. nationalism – countries
increased power
Concept 8: World at War
PO 1. Explain how the following world movements led to World War I:

      (e.g., restrictions on
      Germany, end of the
      Ottoman Empire,
      redrawing of
      European boundaries)

Lesson II: Sykes Picot Agreement
- This lesson presupposes prior knowledge of the age of imperialism and WWI -

Procedures: The purpose of this exercise is simply to provide students with a sense of European designs on the post-Ottoman Middle East and the implications of those intentions. This will be accomplished through a guided discussion and contextualized within the larger themes of imperialism, WWI and nationalism. The Middle Eastern nation-states that we know today are the result in large part of early European influence as pertains to the dismantling of the Ottoman Empire following WWI.

Within the framework of a curriculum based on questions, dialogue and varied perspectives, facilitate a discussion on the implications of the Sykes Picot Agreement. The following questions can serve to guide the conversation:

Activity 2: Have students form representative bodies (British, French, Russian, Arab) to engage in an official conversation forwarding and defending their interests. Once assigned a group to represent, students will independently research the circumstances and interests of their group at that time and come to class ready to represent those interests against competing interests. Does the end result of this official dialogue resemble the Sykes Picot Agreement?

Procedures: Analyze the language of the Balfour Declaration. Take this opportunity to reinforce the importance of precision in language. With regard to the Balfour Declaration, the future of entire groups of people was at stake. Every word was carefully selected as to articulate an exact message.

Activity 2: Students will assume the role of both an Israeli and a Palestinian. Upon receipt of the Balfour Declaration write a formal letter of response to Lord Balfour expressing your reaction to the declaration.

Translation of a letter from Sharif Husayn of Mecca to Sir Henry McMahon, His Majesty’s High Commissioner at Cairo, July 14, 1915

Whereas the whole of the Arab nation without any exception have decided in these last years to accomplish their freedom, and grasp the reins of their administration both in theory and practice; and whereas they have found and felt that it is in the interest of the Government of Great Britain to support them and aid them in the attainment of their firm and lawful intentions (which are based upon the maintenance of the honour and dignity of their life) without any ulterior motives whatsoever unconnected with this object;

And whereas it is to their (the Arabs') interest also to prefer the assistance of the Government of Great Britain in consideration of their geographic position and economic interests, and also of the attitude of the above-mentioned Government, which is known to both nations and therefore need not be emphasized;

For these reasons the Arab nation sees fit to limit themselves, as time is short, to asking the Government of Great Britain, if it should think fit, for the approval, through her deputy or representative, of the following fundamental propositions, leaving out all things considered secondary in comparison with these, so that it may prepare all means necessary for attaining this noble purpose, until such time as it finds occasion for making the actual negotiations:-

Firstly.- England will acknowledge the independence of the Arab countries, bounded on the north by Mersina and Adana up to the 37th degree of latitude, on which degree fall Birijik, Urfa, Mardin, Midiat, Jezirat (Ibn 'Umar), Amadia, up to the border of Persia; on the east by the borders of Persia up to the Gulf of Basra; on the south by the Indian Ocean, with the exception of the position of Aden to remain as it is; on the west by the Red Sea, the Mediterranean Sea up to Mersina. England to approve the proclamation of an Arab Khalifate of Islam.

Secondly.- The Arab Government of the Sherif will acknowledge that England shall have the preference in all economic enterprises in the Arab countries whenever conditions of enterprises are otherwise equal.

Thirdly.- For the security of this Arab independence and the certainty of such preference of economic enterprises, both high contracting parties will offer mutual assistance, to the best ability of their military and naval forces, to face any foreign Power which may attack either party. Peace not to be decided without agreement of both parties.

Fourthly.- If one of the parties enters into an aggressive conflict, the other party will assume a neutral attitude, and in case of such party wishing the other to join forces, both to meet and discuss the conditions.

Fifthly.- England will acknowledge the abolition of foreign privileges in the Arab countries, and will assist the Government of the Sherif in an International Convention for confirming such abolition.

Sixthly.- Articles 3 and 4 of this treaty will remain in vigour for fifteen years, and, if either wishes it to be renewed, one year's notice before lapse of treaty is to be given.

Consequently, and as the whole of the Arab nation have (praise be to God) agreed and united for the attainment, at all costs and finally, of this noble object, they beg the Government of Great Britain to answer them positively or negatively in a period of thirty days after receiving this intimation; and if this period should lapse before they receive an answer, they reserve to themselves complete freedom of action. Moreover, we (the Sherif's family) will consider ourselves free in work and deed from the bonds of our previous declaration which we made through Ali Effendi.

No. 2

Translation of a letter from McMahon to Husayn, August 30, 1915

To his Highness the Sherif Hussein.
(After compliments and salutations.)

WE have the honour to thank you for your frank expressions of the sincerity of your feeling towards England. We rejoice, moreover, that your Highness and your people are of one opinion-that Arab interests are English interests and English Arab. To this intent 'we confirm to you the terms of Lord Kitchener's message, which reached you by the hand of Ali Effendi, and in which was stated clearly our desire for the independence of Arabia and its inhabitants, together with our approval of the Arab Khalifate when it should be proclaimed. We declare once more that His Majesty's Government would welcome the resumption of the Khalifate by an Arab of true race. With regard to the questions of limits and boundaries, it would appear to be premature to consume our time in discussing such details in the heat of war, and while, in many portions of them, the Turk is up to now in effective occupation; especially as we have learned, with surprise and regret, that some of the Arabs in those very parts, far from assisting us, are neglecting this their supreme opportunity and are lending their arms to the German and the Turk, to the new despoiler and the old oppressor.

Nevertheless, we are ready to send your Highness for the Holy Cities and the noble Arabs the charitable offerings of Egypt so soon as your Highness shall inform us how and where they should be delivered. We are, moreover, arranging for this your messenger to be admitted and helped on any journey he may make to ourselves.

Friendly reassurances. Salutations!

(Signed) A. H. McMAHON.

No. 3

Translation of a letter from Husayn to McMahon, September 9, 1915

To his Excellency the Most Exalted, the Most Eminent-the
WITH great cheerfulness and delight I received your
It is necessary to make clear to your Excellency our
Nevertheless, your Excellency will pardon me and permit
As the limits and boundaries demanded are not those of
Therefore, they have found it necessary first to discuss
Their reason for this union and confidence is mutual
For the object is, honourable Minister, the truth which
Yet within these limits they have not included places
May God have mercy on the Khalifate and comfort Moslems
I am confident that your Excellency will not doubt that
Is this not right, your Excellency the Minister?
In a word, your high Excellency, we are firm in our
With reference to your remark in your letter above
Up to the present moment I am myself with all my might
In order to reassure your Excellency I can declare that
Whatever the illustrious Government of Great Britain In all cases it is only God's will which shall be
With regard to our demand for grain for the natives, and
Moreover the said grain is from the special Wakfs and has
If you think it should be, let the grain of the two years
Let the captain of the steamer or the "Mamur"
Please accept my best regards and salutations.

If you choose to send a reply to this, please send it British High Commissioner in Egypt; may God grant him Success.
letter dated the 19th Shawal, 1333 (the 30th August, 1915), and have given it great consideration and regard, in spite of the impression I received from it of ambiguity and its tone of coldness and hesitation with regard to our essential point.
sincerity towards the illustrious British Empire and our confession of preference for it in all cases and matters and under all forms and circumstances. The real interests of the followers of our religion necessitate this.
me to say clearly that the coolness and hesitation which you have displayed in the question of the limits and boundaries by saying that the discussion of these at present is of no use and is a loss of time, and that they are still in the hands of the Government which is ruling them, &c., might be taken to infer an estrangement or something of the sort.
one person whom we should satisfy and with whom we should discuss them after the war is over, but our peoples have seen that the life of their new proposal is bound at least by these limits and their word is united on this.
this point with the Power in whom they now have their confidence and trust as a final appeal, viz., the illustrious British Empire.
interest, the necessity of regulating territorial divisions and the feelings of their inhabitants, so that they may know how to base their future and life, so not to meet her (England?) or any of her Allies in opposition to their resolution which would produce a contrary issue, which God forbid.
is established on a basis which guarantees the essential sources of life in future.
inhabited by a foreign race. It is a vain show of words and titles.
in it.
it is not I personally who am demanding of these limits which include only our race, but that they are all proposals of the people, who, in short, believe that they are necessary for economic life.

sincerity and declaring our preference for loyalty towards you, whether you are satisfied with us, as has been said, or angry.
mentioned that some of our people are still doing their utmost in promoting the interests of Turkey, your goodness (lit. "perfectness") would not permit you to make this an excuse for the tone of coldness and hesitation with regard to our demands, demands which I cannot admit that you, as a man of sound opinion, will deny to be necessary for our existence; nay, they are the essential essence of our life, material and moral.
carrying out in my country all things in conformity with the Islamic law, all things which tend to benefit the rest of the Kingdom, and I shall continue to do so until it pleases God to order otherwise.
the whole country, together with those who you say are submitting themselves to Turco-German orders, are all waiting the result of these negotiations, which are dependent only on your refusal or acceptance of the question of the limits and on your declaration of safeguarding their religion first and then the rest of rights from any harm or danger.
finds conformable to its policy on this subject, communicate it to us and specify to us the course we should follow.
executed, and it is God who is the real factor in everything.
the moneys ("surras") known to the Wakfs' Ministry and all other articles sent here with pilgrims' caravans, high Excellency, my intention in this matter is to confirm your proclamations to the whole world, and especially to the Moslem world, that your antagonism is confined only to the party which has usurped the rights of the Khalifate in which are included the rights of all Moslems.
nothing to do with politics.
be transported in a special steamer to Jedda in an official manner, in the name of all the natives as usual, and the captain of the steamer or the special "Mamur" detailed as usual every year to hand it over on his arrival at the port will send to the Governor of Jedda asking for the Mamur of the grain at Jedda or a responsible official to take over the grain and give the necessary receipt signed by the said Mamur, that is the Mamur of the grain himself. He should make it a condition that he would (? not) accept any receipt but that signed by this Mamur.
(detailed with the grain) be instructed that if he finds anything contrary to this arrangement he should warn them that he will return home with the cargo. Thereupon the Mamur and the special committee detailed with him, which is known as the committee of the grain for the natives, will take over the grain in the proper form.
with the bearer. 29th Shawal, 1333.

No. 4

Translation of a letter from McMahon to Husayn, October 24, 1915

I have received your letter of the 29th Shawal, 1333, with much pleasure and your expressions of friendliness and sincerity have given me the greatest satisfaction.

I regret that you should have received from my last letter the impression that I regarded the question of the limits and boundaries with coldness and hesitation; such was not the case, but it appeared to me that the time had not yet come when that question could be discussed in a conclusive manner.

I have realised, however, from your last letter that you regard this question as one of vital and urgent importance. I have, therefore, lost no time in informing the Government of Great Britain of the contents of your letter, and it is with great pleasure that I communicate to you on their behalf the following statement, which I am confident you will receive with satisfaction:-

The two districts of Mersina and Alexandretta and portions of Syria lying to the west of the districts of Damascus, Homs, Hama and Aleppo cannot be said to be purely Arab, and should be excluded from the limits demanded.

With the above modification, and without prejudice of our existing treaties with Arab chiefs, we accept those limits.

As for those regions lying within those frontiers wherein Great Britain is free to act without detriment to the interest of her ally, France, I am empowered in the name of the Government of Great Britain to give the following assurances and make the following reply to your letter:-

1. Subject to the above modifications, Great Britain is prepared to recognize and support the independence of the Arabs in all the regions within the limits demanded by the Sherif of Mecca.

2. Great Britain will guarantee the Holy Places against all external aggression and will recognise their inviolability.

3. When the situation admits, Great Britain will give to the Arabs her advice and will assist them to establish what may appear to be the most suitable forms of government in those various territories.

4. On the other hand, it is understood that the Arabs have decided to seek the advice and guidance of Great Britain only, and that such European advisers and officials as may be required for the formation of a sound form of administration will be British.

5. With regard to the vilayets of Bagdad and Basra, the Arabs will recognise that the established position and interests of Great Britain necessitate special administrative arrangements in order to secure these territories from foreign aggression, to promote the welfare of the local populations and to safeguard our mutual economic interests.
I am convinced that this declaration will assure you beyond all possible doubt of the sympathy of Great Britain towards the aspirations of her friends the Arabs and will result in a firm and lasting alliance, the immediate results of which will be the expulsion of the Turks from the Arab countries and the freeing of the Arab peoples from the Turkish yoke, which for so many years has pressed heavily upon them.

I have confined myself in this letter to the more vital and important questions, and if there are any other matters dealt with in your letter which I have omitted to mention, we may discuss them at some convenient date in the future.

It was with very great relief and satisfaction that I heard of the safe arrival of the Holy Carpet and the accompanying offerings which, thanks to the clearness of your directions and the excellence of your arrangements, were landed without trouble or mishap in spite of the dangers and difficulties occasioned by the present sad war. May God soon bring a lasting peace and freedom to all peoples!

I am sending this letter by the hand of your trusted and excellent messenger, Sheikh Mohammed Ibn Arif Ibn Uraifan, and he will inform you of the various matters of interest, but of less vital importance, which I have not mentioned in this letter.

(Compliments)
(Signed) A. H. McMAHON.

No. 5

Translation of a letter from Husayn to McMahon, November 5, 1915

(In the name of God, the Merciful, the Compassionate!)

To his Excellency the most exalted and eminent Minister who is endowed with

the highest authority and soundness of opinion.

May God guide him to do His Will!

I RECEIVED with great pleasure your honoured letter, dated the 15th Zil Hijja (the 24th October, 1915), to which I beg to answer as follows:

1. In order to facilitate an agreement and to render a service to Islam, and at the same time to avoid all that may cause Islam troubles and hardships-seeing moreover that we have great consideration for the distinguished qualities and dispositions of the Government of Great Britain-we renounce our insistence on the inclusion of the vilayets of Mersina and Adana in the Arab Kingdom. But the two vilayets of Aleppo and Beirut and their sea coasts are purely Arab vilayets, and there is no difference between a Moslem and a Christian Arab: they are both descendants of one forefather.

We Moslems will follow the footsteps of the Commander of the Faithful Omar ibn Khattab, and other Khalifs succeeding him, who ordained in the laws of the Moslem Faith that Moslems should treat the Christians as they treat themselves. He, Omar, declared with reference to Christians: "They will have the same privileges and submit to the same duties as ourselves." They will thus enjoy their civic rights in as much as it accords with the general interests of the whole nation.

2. As the Iraqi vilayets are parts of the pure Arab Kingdom, and were in fact the seat of its Government in the time of Ali ibn Abu Talib, and in the time of all the Khalifs who succeeded him; and as in them began the civilisation of the Arabs, and as their towns were the first towns built in Islam where the Arab power became so great; therefore they are greatly valued by all Arabs far and near, and their traditions cannot be forgotten by them. Consequently, we cannot satisfy the Arab nations or make them submit to give us such a title to nobility. But in order to render an accord easy, and taking into consideration the assurances mentioned in the fifth article of your letter to keep and guard our mutual interests in that country as they are one and the same, for all these reasons we might agree to leave under the British administration for a short time those districts now occupied by the British troops without the rights of either party being prejudiced thereby (especially those of the Arab nation; which interests are to it economic and vital), and against a suitable sum paid as compensation to the Arab Kingdom for the period of occupation, in order to meet the expenses which every new kingdom is bound to support; at the same time respecting your agreements with the Sheikhs of those districts, and especially those which are essential.

3. In your desire to hasten the movement we see not only advantages, but grounds of apprehension. The first of these grounds is the fear of the blame of the Moslems of the opposite party (as has already happened in the past), who would declare that we have revolted against Islam and ruined its forces. The second is that, standing in the face of Turkey which is supported by all the forces of Germany, we do not know what Great Britain and her Allies would do if one of the Entente Powers were weakened and obliged to make peace. We fear that the Arab nation will then be left alone in the face of Turkey together with her allies, but we would not at all mind if we were to face the Turks alone. Therefore it is necessary to take these points into consideration in order to avoid a peace being concluded in which the parties concerned may decide the fate of our people as if we had taken part in the war without making good our claims to official consideration.

4. The Arab nation has a strong belief that after this war is over the Turks under German influence will direct their efforts to provoke the. Arabs and violate their rights, both material and moral, to wipe out their nobility and honour and reduce them to utter submission as they are determined to ruin them entirely. The reasons for the slowness shown in our action have already been stated.

5. When the Arabs know the Government of Great Britain is their ally who will not leave them to themselves at the conclusion of peace in the face of Turkey and Germany, and that she will support and will effectively defend them, then to enter the war at once will, no doubt, be in conformity with the general interest of the Arabs.

6. Our letter dated the 29th Shaual, 1333 (the 9th September, 1915), saves us the trouble of repeating our opinions as to articles 3 and 4 of your honoured last letter regarding administration, Government advisers and officials, especially as you have declared, exalted Minister, that you will not interfere with internal affairs.

7. The arrival of a clear and definite answer as soon as possible to the above proposals is expected. We have done our utmost in making concessions in order to come to an agreement satisfying both parties. We know that our lot in this war will be either a success, which will guarantee to the Arabs a life becoming their past history, or destruction in the attempt to attain their objects. Had it not been for the determination which I see in the Arabs for the attainment of their objects, I would have preferred to seclude myself on one of the heights of a mountain, but they, the Arabs, have insisted that I should guide the movement to this end.

May God keep you safe and victorious, as we devoutly hope and desire.

27th Zil Hijja, 1333.

No. 6

Translation of a letter from McMahon to Husayn, December 14, 1915

(After customary greetings and acknowledgment of previous letter.)

I AM gratified to observe that you agree to the exclusion of the districts of Mersina and Adana from boundaries of the Arab territories.

I also note with great pleasure and satisfaction your assurances that the Arabs are determined to act in conformity with the precepts laid down by Omar Ibn Khattab and the early Khalifs, which secure the rights and privileges of all religions alike.

In stating that the Arabs are ready to recognise and respect all our treaties with Arab chiefs, it is, of course, understood that this will apply to all territories included in the Arab Kingdom, as the Government of Great Britain cannot repudiate engagements which already exist.

With regard to the vilayets of Aleppo and Beirut, the Government of Great Britain have fully understood and taken careful note of your observations, but, as the interests of our ally, France, are involved in them both, the question will require careful consideration and a further communication on the subject will be addressed to you in due course.

The Government of Great Britain, as I have already informed you, are ready to give all guarantees of assistance and support within their power to the Arab Kingdom, but their interests demand, as you yourself have recognised, a friendly and stable administration in the vilayet of Bagdad, and the adequate safeguarding of these interests calls for a much fuller and more detailed consideration than the present situation and the urgency of these negotiations permit.

We fully appreciate your desire for caution, and have no wish to urge you to hasty action, which might jeopardise the eventual success of your projects, but, in the meantime, it is most essential that you should spare no effort to attach all the Arab peoples to our united cause and urge them to afford no assistance to our enemies.

It is on the success of these efforts and on the more active measures which the Arabs may hereafter take in support of our cause, when the time for action comes, that the permanence and strength of our agreement must depend.

Under these circumstances I am further directed by the Government of Great Britain to inform you that you may rest assured that Great Britain has no intention of concluding any peace in terms of which the freedom of the Arab peoples from German and Turkish domination does not form an essential condition.

As an earnest of our intentions, and in order to aid you in your efforts in our joint cause, I am sending you by your trustworthy messenger a sum of twenty thousand pounds.

(Customary ending.)
(Signed) H. McMAHON.

No. 7

Translation of a letter from Husayn to McMahon, January 1, 1916

(In the name of God, the Merciful, the Compassionate!)

To his Excellency the eminent, energetic and magnanimous Minister.

WE received from the bearer your letter, dated the 9th Safar (the 14th December, 1915), with great respect and honour, and I have understood its contents, which caused me the greatest pleasure and satisfaction, as it removed that which had made me uneasy.

Your honour will have realised, after the arrival of Mohammed (Faroki) Sherif and his interview with you, that all our procedure up to the present was of no personal inclination or the like, which would have been wholly unintelligible, but that everything was the result of the decisions and desires of our peoples, and that we are but transmitters and executants of such decisions and desires in the position they (our people) have pressed upon us.

These truths are, in my opinion, very important and deserve your honour's special attention and consideration.

With regard to what had been stated in your honoured communication concerning El Iraq as to the matter of compensation for the period of occupation, we, in order to strengthen the confidence of Great Britain in our attitude and in our words and actions, really and veritably, and in order to give her evidence of our certainty and assurance in trusting her glorious Government, leave the determination of the amount to the perception of her wisdom and justice.

As regards the northern parts and their coasts, we have already stated in our previous letter what were the utmost possible modifications, and all this was only done so to fulfill those aspirations whose attainment is desired by the will of the Blessed and Supreme God. It is this same feeling and desire which impelled us to avoid what may possibly injure the alliance of Great Britain and France and the agreement made between them during the present wars and calamities; yet we find it our duty that the eminent minister should be sure that, at the first opportunity after this war is finished, we shall ask you (what we avert our eyes from to-day) for what we now leave to France in Beirut and its coasts.

I do not find it necessary to draw your attention to the fact that our plan is of greater security to the interests and protection of the rights of Great Britain than it is to us, and will necessarily be so whatever may happen, so that Great Britain may finally see her friends in that contentment and advancement which she is endeavouring to establish for them now, especially as her Allies being neighbours to us will be the germ of difficulties and discussion with which there will be no peaceful conditions. In addition to which the citizens of Beirut will decidedly never accept such dismemberment, and they may oblige us to undertake new measures which may exercise Great Britain, certainly not less than her present troubles, because of our belief and certainty in the reciprocity and indeed the identity of our interests, which is the only cause that caused us never to care to negotiate with any other Power but you. Consequently, it is impossible to allow any derogation that gives France, or any other Power, a span of land in those regions.

I declare this, and I have a strong belief, which the living will inherit from the dead, in the declarations which you give in the conclusion of your honoured letter. Therefore, the honourable and eminent Minister should believe and be sure, together with Great Britain, that we still remain firm to our resolution which Storrs learnt from us two years ago, for which we await the opportunity suitable to our situation, especially in view of that action the time of which has now come near and which destiny drives towards us with great haste and clearness, so that we and those who are of our opinion may have reasons for such action against any criticisms or responsibilities imposed upon us in future.

Your expression "we do not want to push you to any hasty action which might jeopardise the success of your aim" does not need any more explanation except what we may ask for, when necessary, such as arms, ammunition, &c.

I deem this sufficient, as I have occupied much of your Honour's time. I beg to offer you my great veneration and respect.

25th Safar, 1334.

No. 8

Translation of a letter from McMahon to Husayn, January 25, 1916

(After customary greetings.)

WE have received with great pleasure and satisfaction your letter of the 25th Safar (the 1st January) at the hands of your trusty messenger, who has also transmitted to us your verbal messages.

We fully realise and entirely appreciate the motives which guide you in this important question, and we know well that you are acting entirely in the interests of the Arab peoples and with no thought beyond their welfare.

We take note of your remarks concerning the vilayet of Baghdad a", and will take the question into careful consideration when the enemy has been defeated and the time for peaceful settlement arrives.

As regards the northern parts, we note with satisfaction your desire to avoid anything which might possibly injure the alliance of Great Britain and France. It is, as you know, our fixed determination that nothing shall be permitted to interfere in the slightest degree with our united prosecution of this war to a victorious conclusion. Moreover, when the victory has been won, the friendship of Great Britain and France will become yet more firm and enduring, cemented by the blood of Englishmen and Frenchmen who have died side by side fighting for the cause of right and liberty.

In this great cause Arabia is now associated, and God grant that the result of our mutual efforts and co-operation will bind us in a lasting friendship to the mutual welfare and happiness of us all.

We are greatly pleased to hear of the action you are taking to win all the Arabs over to our joint cause, and to dissuade them from giving any assistance to our enemies, and we leave it to your discretion to seize the most favourable moment for further and more decided measures.

You will doubtless inform us by the bearer of this letter of any manner in which we can assist you and your requests will always receive our immediate consideration.

You will have heard how El Sayed Ahmed el Sherif el Senussi has been beguiled by evil advice into hostile action, and it will be a great grief to you to know that he has been so far forgetful of the interests of the Arabs as to throw in his lot with our enemies. Misfortune has now overtaken him, and we trust that this will show him his error and lead him to peace for the sake of his poor misguided followers.

We are sending this letter by the hand of your good messenger, who will also bring to you all our news.

With salaams.

(Signed) H. McMAHON.

No. 9

Translation of a letter from Husayn to McMahon, February 18, 1916

(In the name of the Merciful, the Compassionate!)

To the most noble His Excellency the High Commissioner. May God protect Vim. (After compliments and respects.)

WE received your Excellency's letter dated 25th Rabi El Awal, and its contents filled us with the utmost pleasure and satisfaction at the attainment of the required understanding and the intimacy desired. I ask God to make easy our purposes and prosper our endeavours. Your Excellency will understand the work that is being done, and the reasons for it from the following: — Firstly.-We had informed your Excellency that we had sent one of our sons to Syria to command the operations deemed necessary there. We have received a detailed report from him stating that the tyrannies of the Government there have not left of the persons upon whom they could depend, whether of the different ranks of soldiers or of others, save only a few, and those of secondary importance; and that he is awaiting the arrival of the forces announced from different places, especially from the people of the country and the surrounding Arab regions as Aleppo and the south of Mosul, whose total is calculated at not less than 100,000 by their estimate; and he intends, if the majority of the forces mentioned are Arab, to begin the movement by them; and, if otherwise, that is, of the Turks or others, he will observe their advance to the Canal, and when they begin to fight, his movements upon them will be different to what they expect.

Secondly.—We purposed sending our eldest son to Medina with sufficient forces to strengthen his brother (who is) in Syria, and with every possibility of occupying the railway line, or carrying out such operations as circumstances may admit. This is the beginning of the principal movement, and we are satisfied in its beginning with what he had levied as guards to keep the interior of the country quiet; they are of the people of Hejaz only, for many reasons, which it would take too long to set forth; chiefly the difficulties in the way of providing their necessities with secrecy and speed (although this precaution was not necessary) and to make it easy to bring reinforcements when needed; this is the summary of what you wished to understand. In my opinion it is sufficient, and it is to be taken as a foundation and a standard as to our actions in the face of all changes and unforeseen events which the sequence of events may show. It remains for us to state what we need at present:

Firstly.—The amount of £50,000 in gold for the monthly pay of the troops levied, and other things the necessity of which needs no explanation. We beg you to send it with all possible haste.

Secondly.—20,000 sacks of rice, 15,000 sacks of flour, 3,000 sacks of barley, 150 sacks of coffee, 150 sacks of sugar, 5,000 rifles of the modern pattern and the necessary ammunition, and 100 boxes of the two sample cartridges (enclosed) and of Martini-Henry cartridges and "Aza," that is those of the rifles of the factory of St. Etienne in France, for the use of those two kinds of rifles of our tribes; it would not be amiss to send 500 boxes of both kinds.

Thirdly.—We think it better that the place of deposit of all these things should be Port Sudan.

Fourthly.—As the above provisions and munitions are not needed until the beginning of the movement (of which we will inform you officially), they should remain at the above place, and when we need them we will inform the Governor there of the place to which they may be conveyed, and of the intermediaries who will carry orders for receiving them.

Fifthly.—The money required should be sent at once to the Governor of Port Sudan, and a confidential agent will be sent by us to receive it, either all at once, or in two installments, according as he is able, and this (§) is the (secret) sign to be recognized for accepting the man.

Sixthly.—Our envoy who will receive the money will be sent to Port Sudan in three weeks' time, that is to say, he will be there on the 5th Jamad Awal (9th March) with a letter from us addressed to Al Khawaga Elias Effendi, saying that he (Elias) will pay him, in accordance with the letter, the rent of our properties, and the signature will be clear in our name, but we will instruct him to ask for the Governor of the place, whom you will apprise of this person's arrival. After perusal of the letter, the money should be given to him on condition that no discussion whatever is to be made with him of any question concerning us. We beg you most emphatically not to tell him anything, keeping this affair secret, and he should be treated apparently as if he were nothing out of the way.

Let it not be thought that our appointment of another man results from lack of confidence in the bearer; it is only to avoid waste of time, for we are appointing him to a task elsewhere. At the same time we beg you not to embark or send him in a steamer, or officially, the means already arranged being sufficient.

Seventhly.--Our representative, bearer of the present letter, has been definitely instructed to ensure the arrival of this, and I think that his mission this time is finished since the condition of things is known both in general and in detail, and there is no need for sending anyone else. In case of need for sending information, it will come from us; yet as our next representative will reach you after three weeks, you may prepare instructions for him to take back. Yet let him be treated simply in appearance.

Eighthly.--Let the British Government consider this military expenditure in accordance with the books which will be furnished it, explaining how the money has been spent.
To conclude, my best and numberless salutations beyond all increase.

14 Rabi al Akhar, 1334.

No. 10

Translation of a letter from McMahon to Husayn, March 10, 1916

(After customary greetings.)

We have received your letter of the 14th Rabi el Akhar (the 18th February), duly delivered by your trusted messenger.

We are grateful to note the active measures which you propose to take. We consider them the most suitable in the existing circumstances, and they have the approval of His Majesty's Government. I am pleased to be able to inform you that His Majesty's Government have approved of meeting your requests, and that which you asked to be sent with all haste is being despatched with your messenger, who is also the bearer of this letter.

The remainder will be collected as quickly as possible and will be deposited at Port Sudan, where it will remain until we hear from you officially of the beginning of the movement and of the places to which they may be conveyed and the intermediaries who will carry out the orders for receiving them.

The necessary instructions, as set forth in your letter, have been issued to the Governor at Port Sudan, and he will arrange everything in accordance with your wishes.
Your representative who brought your last letter has been duly facilitated in his journey to Jeizan, and every assistance has been given him in his mission, which we trust will be crowned with good results.

We have arranged that, on completion, he will be brought to Port Sudan, whence he will proceed by the safest means to join you and report the results of his work.

We take the opportunity, in sending this letter, to explain to you a matter which might otherwise not have been clear to you, and which might have given rise to misunderstanding. There are various Turkish posts and small garrisons along the coasts of Arabia who are hostile to us, and who are said to be planning injury to our naval interests in the Red Sea. We may, therefore, find it necessary to take hostile measures against these posts and garrisons, but we have issued strict instructions that every care must be taken by our ships to differentiate between the hostile Turkish garrisons and the innocent Arab inhabitants, towards whom we entertain such friendly feelings.

We give you notice of this matter in case distorted and false reports may reach you of the reasons for any action which we may be obliged to take.

We have heard rumours that our mutual enemies are endeavouring to construct boats for the purpose of laying mines in the Red Sea, and of otherwise injuring our interests there, and we beg of you that you will give us early information should you receive any confirmation of such reports.

We have heard that Ibn Rashid has been selling large quantities of camels to the Turks, which are being sent up to Damascus.

We hope that you will be able to use influence with him in order that he may cease from this practice and, if he still persists, that you will be able to arrange for the Arabs who lie between him and Syria to seize the camels as they pass, a procedure which will be to our mutual advantage.

I am glad to be able to inform you that those misguided Arabs under Sayed Ahmed el Senussi, who have fallen victims to the wiles of Turkish and German intriguers, are now beginning to see the error of their ways, and are coming in to us in large numbers, asking for forgiveness and friendship.

We have severely defeated the forces which these intriguers had collected against us, and the eyes of the Arabs are now becoming open to the deceit which has been practiced upon them.

The capture of Erzerum, and the defeats sustained by the Turks in the Caucasus, are having a great effect in our favour, and are greatly helping the cause for which we are both working.

We ask God to prosper your endeavors and to further the work which you have taken in hand.

In conclusion, we beg you to accept our warmest salutations and expressions of friendship.

Jamad Awwal, 1334.
(Signed) A. H. McMAHON

British control: Sykes-Picot
The Sykes-Picot agreement was a secret understanding concluded in 1916 between Great Britain and France, with the assent of Russia, for the dismemberment of the Ottoman Empire. The agreement was not implemented, but it established the principles for the division a few years later of the Turkish-held region into the French and British-administered areas of Syria, Iraq, Lebanon and Palestine.

From: http://www.bbc.co.uk/worldservice/

British control: Mandate Palestine
Palestine - comprising what are now Israel, the West Bank, Gaza Strip and Jordan - was among several former Ottoman Arab territories placed under the administration of Great Britain by the League of Nations. The mandate lasted from 1920 to 1948. In 1923 Britain granted limited autonomy to Transjordan, now known as Jordan.

The British Mandate
Source: Atlas of the Arab-Israeli Conflict, 7th edition - Sir Martin Gilbert; Publisher: Routledge (Taylor & Francis), 2002; ISBN: 0415281172 (paperback), 0415281164 (hardback); Map: NPR Online

Map from npr.org

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The Palestinian-Israeli Conflict and the Search for Peace
High School Social Studies Unit
By Lisa Adeli, University of Arizona Center for Middle Eastern Studies

Overview: This lesson will give students a background to the history of the Palestinian-Israeli conflict, allow them to read several short eyewitness accounts by various Palestinian and Israeli children, require them to look up more about one of the issues the children raise, and have them develop proposals to improve relations between Israelis and Palestinians. Approximate time frame: 3-4 50-minute class periods.

Objectives: Students will learn more about the Palestinian-Israeli conflict and peace process. Students will explore/analyze multiple perspectives on the same issue and will increase their analytical skills by developing proposals to help alleviate tensions between the two peoples.

Standards:

Strand 1: American History – Concept 1: Skills for History, PO 5 specifically requires students to look at multiple perspectives on an issue and examine the author’s analysis.
Concept 9: Postwar United States. PO1-d (United States as a superpower - e.g., political intervention and humanitarian efforts) would include U.S. efforts to broker agreements between Israel and the Arab world, such as Jimmy Carter’s Camp David meetings.

Strand 2: World History – Concept 1: Skills for History, PO 5 requires the same analysis of multiple perspectives on an issue as Concept 1, PO 5 in the American history strand. Concept 9: Contemporary World. PO2-c specifically requires teachers to teach about the Palestinian-Israeli conflict.

Strand 3: Civics/Government – Concept 5: Government Systems of the World. PO 2 indicates that students should “describe factors (e.g., trade, political tensions, sanctions, terrorism) that influence United States foreign policy.” U.S. policies with respect to the Palestinian-Israeli conflict are at the heart of political tensions and terrorism in the Middle East.

Strand 4: Geography – Concept 4: Human Systems. PO2 and 3 involve the causes and effects of human migration. The return of the Jews to Palestine and the movement of Palestinian refugees after the formation of Israel both provide case studies of these important ideas.

Materials needed for the lesson:

1. Map showing Israel’s borders, Palestinian territories, and the short distance between places. <www.zionismontheweb.org/map_Israel_distances.gif>
2. Historical background sections (“Background to the Conflict” and “Conflict and Compromise since 1948”).
3. Eyewitness accounts (“Israeli Children’s Views” and “Palestinian Children’s Views”)

Procedures/Directions for implementing the lesson:

1. Introduction: Ask students what they know about borders and about the issue of two different peoples inhabiting the same or adjoining land. Referencing their experience living in a border land, ask them what Americans and Mexicans have in common? What issues divide them? What are potential points of conflict? Have there been attempts to resolve these issues? When meetings are held between the U.S. and Mexico on border issues, what challenges do the organizers face? (Be sure the students think about the language barrier, the difference in power between the countries, and the fact that Americans hold widely different views on what should be done.) The Palestinian-Israeli conflict also involves two different groups of people living in close proximity to each other. The following lesson will look at the issues dividing the two peoples, differences in opinion within each group, and the challenges of the peace process.

3. Read and discuss the section entitled “Conflict and Compromise since 1948” (3 pages). Discuss. Be sure to pay particular attention to the part on the important issues dividing Israelis and Palestinians. Tell students to use that section as a reference guide when doing the activities that follow.

4. Have students read the eyewitness accounts by various Palestinian and Israeli children. (Note: It is extremely important that students read both the Palestinian and the Israeli accounts. While it would save time to turn half the class into Israelis and half into Palestinians, doing that would undermine the primary objective of having students compare a wide variety of perspectives.) As they read each section, have them briefly note down the issues each child raises. The students could then compare lists. (Some of these issues are: terrorist attacks, soldiers, checkpoints and the “security wall,” Israeli settlements on Palestinian lands, the intifada, Israeli measures to limit Palestinians - curfews, tear gassing crowds, bulldozing of houses, Palestinian refugee camps, and the issue of a separate Palestinian state.)

5. Have students work in groups to research one of the issues mentioned above. (This should be a relatively short process but will require students to have access to the internet – and presupposes that students know how to look for the bias in each source.) The group should get some general background on the issue and explain both sides’ perspectives, incorporating quotes from the eyewitness accounts.

6. Ask student groups to explain the issue they researched to the class. After each presentation, the class should decide on a summary (not more than a sentence long for each side) of Palestinian and Israeli positions on the issue.

7. Divide students into larger groups/panels (splitting up members of the previous groups among the various “panels”). Each group is a panel of U.S. experts, whose goal is to develop specific recommendations to help resolve some of the issues that have been raised. Students don’t have to “solve” the problems but should choose three of the issues discussed in steps 5 and 6 and make a specific suggestion for improvement for each of the issues they choose. Compare the different panels’ suggestions.

Extension activities:

1. Have students read and compare short excerpts from Palestinian author Ibtisam Barakat’s Tasting the Sky: A Palestinian Childhood (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2007) and Israeli author Amos Oz’s memoir A Tale of Love and Darkness: A Memoir (Orlando: Harcourt, 2003). (Excerpts are found in the High School English lesson in this packet.)

2. Direct students to research American involvement in the conflict. Have the students examine the extent to which American policy has promoted peace between Arabs and Israelis and the extent to which U.S. efforts have intensified the Palestinian-Israeli conflict.

Background to the Palestinian-Israeli Conflict

Questions for Thought

1. What is the basis of Jewish claims to the land? What is the basis of Palestinian claims?

4. Why and how was Israel created in 1948? What was the immediate effect on both peoples?

Conflict and Compromise Since 1948

Conflict:

            Although the United Nations brokered an end to 1948 war between Israel and the Arab countries, the area remained unstable. Both sides built up their military capacities in preparation for further conflict. In the meantime, many Palestinians, frustrated by the refugee crisis and the reduction in their political and economic position, joined resistance groups. In 1964, a number of these groups merged to form the Palestinian Liberation Organization (PLO), which soon came under the leadership of Yasser Arafat.
            War erupted between Israel and its Arab neighbors several times over the next decades: in 1956, 1967, and 1973. The Six Day War of 1967 was especially significant as Israel took over and occupied the Sinai Peninsula, the Golan Heights, Gaza, the West Bank, and East Jerusalem. Not only was Israel now several times larger than in 1948, but one million Palestinians had come under Israeli rule. In addition, over 200,000 more Palestinians became refugees (mostly going to Jordan). Beginning in 1977, Israeli prime minister Menachem Begin launched a campaign to establish Jewish settlements in the occupied territories. Although the settlement policy was controversial among Israelis, approximately 120,000 Jewish settlers went to East Jerusalem and 100,000 to the West Bank and Gaza. As a result of the settlements, Palestinians lost more of their land and saw their freedom of movement limited. Palestinian guerillas attacked settlers and others within Israel; the Israeli army struck out at Palestinians. Civilian casualties mounted on both sides. The conflict spread to neighboring Lebanon, where the PLO and Israeli army both took an active role in the Lebanese Civil War. A vicious cycle ensued: Israelis, citing security concerns, limited the political, economic, and travel capability of Palestinians, while Palestinians, frustrated by their treatment at the hands of Israelis, increased their resistance activities. The United States periodically attempted to start peace negotiations, but its tendency to be more sympathetic to Israeli concerns reduced the effectiveness of these efforts.
            By late 1987, the Palestinians were in open revolt, a spontaneous movement which came to be called the “intifada” (Arabic for “resistance” or “shaking off”). Hundreds of thousands of Palestinians, mostly young people, participated in civil disobedience (refusal to pay taxes, boycotts, strikes) and in throwing rocks at Israeli troops. The Israeli army responded with force, killing over 1,000 Palestinians, hundreds of whom were children under the age of 16. Israel began to draw criticism, both at home and abroad, for its treatment of Palestinian civilians. Similarly, Palestinian bombing attacks targeted Israeli civilians.
            The suffering on both sides led to peace negotiations beginning in 1991, but the failure to achieve a lasting settlement resulted in a second intifada beginning in 2000. More negotiations have resulted, but there is still tension and violence to this day.

Important Issues Separating Israelis and Palestinians:

3. Control of Jerusalem. This city is holy to Jews, Muslims, and Christians. The problem: Who should control it, or how should control be shared?

The Peace Process:

            As the violence took an increasing toll on both sides, there have been efforts to achieve a peaceful settlement. In September 1978, during a conference at Camp David organized by American president Jimmy Carter, Israeli prime minister Menachem Begin and Egyptian president Anwar Sadat signed a peace agreement between the two countries, which led to an Israeli withdrawal from Sinai. However, even though Israel and Egypt had begun negotiations, conflicts within Israel were escalating.
            Direct talks between Palestinian and Israeli authorities only began in 1991. Under pressure from the United States and the Soviet Union, a series of talks was held in Madrid, Spain, between the Israeli government, individual Arab states, and the PLO. However, some Israeli and Palestinian leaders sought a less public and politically charged environment and entered into secret discussions in Norway. The result was the signing of the Oslo Accords by Israeli leader Yitzhak Rabin and PLO leader Yasser Arafat in 1993.
            According to the Oslo Agreement, Israel would withdraw forces from Gaza and the West Bank town of Jericho and grant greater autonomy to the Palestinians. Eventually Palestinians would be able to elect a Self-Government Authority in these areas. In return, the PLO agreed to recognize the state of Israel, a step that Israelis felt was vital to their security. Soon a Palestinian Authority was established under Arafat, and Jordan had joined Egypt in recognizing the state of Israel. Critics of the Oslo Accords charge that the agreement did not address many of the serious issues that still divided the two peoples.
            Unfortunately, these issues were never resolved, and both sides failed to honor parts of the agreement. Israel increased its settlements in Palestinian lands, and Palestinians responded by increasing attacks on settlers. Extremism on both sides led to a further escalation of the conflict. In early 1994, an Israeli terrorist killed 30 Muslim worshippers in a mosque in Hebron, and Palestinian terrorists retaliated with a series of suicide bombings.   The peace process quickly broke down.
            In 2000, the suffering of both groups led to further attempts at negotiation. Israeli leader Ehud Barak and Palestinian leader Yasser Arafat met at Camp David to seek a resolution of the conflict. It soon became evident, though, that the fundamental issues dividing the two peoples are difficult to resolve. No definitive agreement was reached, and the peace process remains stalled to the present day. Recent developments have added a further element of uncertainty. Yasser Arafat died in November 2004, and just over a year later (January 2006), the more militant Hamas party was elected to leadership positions in the Palestinian Authority. Israel has also assumed a more militant policy: In summer 2006, an Israeli invasion of Lebanon and attacks on Palestinians there provoked an international outcry. Peace talks resumed in late November 2007 in Annapolis, Maryland, but it remains to be seen whether agreement can be reached.
1. Excerpt from a letter of Galit Fink (Israeli girl) to Mervet Akram Sha’ban (Palestinian). 20 September 1989. In If You Could Be My Friend. New York: Orchard Books, 1992. pp. 60-63.

Mervet,
You have probably wondered why it has taken me so long to answer you. I will tell you the truth. It’s because I was angry. Against all the Arabs and therefore against you too. When I heard about the 405 bus [suicide attack], I didn’t want to write anymore. I thought that the terrorist who turned the steering wheel and who killed sixteen people in the ravine could be someone in your family. Can you explain what these people did that was so terrible that they deserved to die so horribly? I prefer to tell you my anger against those who have done this. It is the first time that I have had a chance to express it.
Today coming back from Haifa with my parents, we drove on this road again. Each time that I go that way I am overwhelmed with anger and I want to cry. Now when I take the bus I am afraid of a terrorist attack. Before I get on, I look carefully to be sure there are no Arabs inside. If there are, I wait for the next bus. I hope you will understand my anger, especially since I don’t hold you responsible anymore. I have thought about it. After all, I don’t have to be afraid of you. You wouldn’t hurt me. You are just like me…..
You know, when I hear that someone has died, whether they are Arab or Jew, I am angry and I say to myself: “Why doesn’t the world care.”
Will they ever decide to make peace? Every week I cling to that hope.
I agree that Arabs should live in their own country. If I were prime minister, I would give a piece of the land to the Arabs….Arabs and Jews living separately without bumping against each other. Maybe that way there would be peace. What do you think?

2. Excerpt from an account by Talia, a 16-year-old Israeli girl, in Deborah Ellis, Three Wishes: Palestinian and Israeli Children Speak. Toronto: Groundwood Books, 2004. pp. 31—33.

            The neighborhood I live in is full of memorials to people who have been killed by the Palestinians. There are little parks and benches dedicated to this person or that person who was killed. It’s very weird when I think about it. You know these things happen, but you never think they’ll happen close to you.
            It’s complicated, about the Palestinians. No one seems to have the right answer. It’s hard for both sides to come together. It will be even harder soon, because of the wall that’s being built around the West Bank. The wall is going to keep the Palestinians out of Israel so they can’t bomb us.
            It’s normal for me to see a lot of soldiers in the streets. My sister’s husband comes from the United States, and he said it was hard for him to see so many people walking around with guns. That’s a funny thing for him to say, since we learned in school that many more people are killed by guns in the United States than here, and there’s a war going on here. He says we should never become used to seeing guns, but I’m used to it already. It would seem strange for me not to see them.
            Besides, the soldiers do an important job. Recently a guard stopped a restaurant from being bombed.
            As soon as I finish school, I will go into the army. It’s very important to do this, even for girls. It’s part of my duty of being an Israeli….
            It’s not possible for someone like me, or my friends, to go into Palestinian-controlled areas. It’s too dangerous. If I won’t go to my own downtown, I certainly won’t go into the West Bank!
            I don’t know any Palestinian or Arab kids. I don’t know if Palestinian kids are like me or not. I don’t know anything about them, even how they are living, although I know their living conditions are not good.
            I know that I am an Israeli citizen, with equal rights to other Israeli citizens. The Palestinians aren’t. They have their own government, but Israel is over everything. The Palestinians aren’t allowed to do the things I’m allowed to do, like move around the country.
            We have gates around our school that are locked so no one can get in who isn’t supposed to be there. There can’t be any cars parked around the school. Often when I walk past parked cars along the street, I wonder if one will blow up beside me.
            I know a lot of people who have been killed in the war.
            A girl from my dance school was killed when a bomb blew up on the bus she was riding on. We took a folk dancing class togher. I saw her a lot. After the bombing, we did a dance recital in a theater in Jerusalem and dedicated it to her….
            You never know when a bomb will explode. You could be in a bad mood or a good mood, in trouble or doing what you’re supposed to do. It doesn’t help to lead a good life. Well, it’s important to lead a good life, but being good doesn’t protect you from the bombs….
            We used to go to Sinai for holidays. That was our relaxation. We’d go with our family and friends, but we don’t go anymore. It’s not safe. There’s nowhere to go now that’s safe.
            Everyone carries a cell phone here. I call Mom a lot, just to say I’m okay, I’m here. If she doesn’t hear from me in awhile, she worries that something bad has happened to me. When a big terror attack happens, the phone system breaks down because everyone is trying to call everyone, to make sure they’re okay.


3. Excerpt from an account by Asif, a 15-year-old Israeli boy, in Deborah Ellis, Three Wishes: Palestinian and Israeli Children Speak. Toronto: Groundwood Books, 2004. pp. 96—98.

To be Jewish in Israel means growing up faster than kids in some other countries. We have to face reality sooner, and be prepared to deal with it.
I lived in Palo Alto, California, for two years, and I noticed a big difference in the
kids I knew there, and the kids I know here. There, they can live in ignorance about the world. We can’t. It’s not a choice we make. It’s our reality. The war has made me more involved in the world.
            I used to take an art class with Palestinian children. I was eleven years old. It was no big deal. They were just kids doing art, same as me….
            The bombings don’t make me afraid. I keep doing what I did before. Some people stay at home and hide, but that just makes them more afraid. Hiding doesn’t make them safer. I’m not stupid. I keep my eyes open, but I’m not going to stop my life.
            Besides, there are police and soldiers everywhere. They stop me on the street sometimes and check through my bags. It’s not just me they stop. They stop a lot of people. Most buildings have guards, too. Even to get a cup of coffee, we have to be searched and go through a metal detector. We cannot forget, even for a day, where we live and what happens here.
            When I’m eighteen, I’ll go into the army. It’s the law, for three years. Some people who don’t like what Israel is doing refuse to go into the army. I won’t refuse, even though I don’t agree with everything they do….
            If I’m given an order I don’t like, an order to do something I think is wrong, I will refuse to do it. It’s important to protect people, protect the Palestinians, I mean. I want to be a moral voice in the army, to keep other soldiers from abusing the Palestinians. That is what my role will be.
            If I were to refuse to go into the army, a military discipline board would meet to discuss my case. Almost certainly, they would put me in jail. I’d only get out of joining the army if they think I’m psychotic, but if they decide I’m psychotic, I’ll never get a job. And if I do time in jail for refusing to go into the army, no one will hire me, either. But none of this matters, because I won’t refuse to join….
            It’s easier for girls who don’t want to serve in the military. They can do community work for their National Service.
            Some people use God as an easy way to explain things. They say, “This is what God wants us to do,” like “God wants us to fight this war,” “God wants us to kill these people,” and “God is on our side.” It’s an easy way to say, “I’m not responsible for what I do.”       If you decide to do something, you have to live with the consequences, not God.
            I hate the Israeli settlers even more than I hate the terrorists. The settlers think they are worth more as human beings than the Palestinians. They think they can push people off their land and take it over, just because they want to. They are awful people, and they make everything worse.
            I don’t think we’ll ever get out of this situation unless we give the Palestinians their own state. It’s the only way to make peace. Everyone will have to give up a little of what they want in order to get some of what they want. We’re both here. Neither of us is going to go away.
            I understand the suicide bombers. They do what they do because of the Israeli occupation of their land. It isn’t hard to understand. We Jews did violence against the British when they controlled Israel. We killed people and blew things up in our fight for freedom. Our soldiers kill and terrorize the Palestinians, and things keep getting worse, not better. It’s hard to say, “Let’s make peace,” to your enemy. It’s easier for them to kill themselves and take some Israelis with them.

4. Excerpt from an account by Yibaneh, an 18-year-old Israeli settler girl, in Deborah Ellis, Three Wishes: Palestinian and Israeli Children Speak. Toronto: Groundwood Books, 2004. pp. 86—89.

            I was born in Israel. I live in a settlement north of Jerusalem called Shilo. Jews have lived there for over three thousand years. It’s talked about in the Bible, in the Book of Judges and in other places. It is the place where the prophet Samuel heard the word of God. The ancient ruins of the old city are still there.
            The modern settlement is much newer, of course. It has a large swimming pool, a library, shops, all the normal things. A lot of writers live there, and artists, along with carpenters and many other professions. We are a small community, so we depend on each other a lot….
            There’s lots of shooting now on the roads. When we drive through Palestinian villages, we know that someone could shoot at us any time. I’m used to it. I don’t feel much of anything about it. When we pass a place where there has been a shooting, we’ll look around, just to look, but I don’t feel anything.
            Several years ago there was an attempt to get a sports league going between us and the Palestinians in the next village, but then the Intifada started, and it never happened. The Palestinians told us, “We couldn’t do this now even if we wanted to. We’d be called traitors and killed by our own people.”
            Back then, I would have liked to play sports with the Palestinian kids. I like playing sports with anybody, so it would have been fun. I have no interest in that now. There is nothing for me to gain by trying to get to know somebody who hates me. It will only make me look weak….
            I‘ll be going into the army soon. It’s very important. The army protects our families, our friends, and our country. The training will be difficult, and the things I’ll have to do when I’m on duty will also be hard, but I don’t think I’ll mind that. At least I’ll have a purpose every day….
            There is no fence around my settlement. I don’t think it would make a difference. We should go to war, no more peace talks. When a terrorist comes out of a village, we should go and hurt the whole village. The army tears down the houses of the suicide bombers, but that’s not enough. It hasn’t stopped them from killing us.
Two of my friends were killed by Palestinians. One was shot. One was killed by a bomb. Neither were in the army. They were just kids, seventeen years old. They weren’t hurting anybody. They should not have died. I grew up with them. We were together all through school. Our settlement is small, only two hundred families. Everybody knows everybody. We used to do all kinds of things together. We went hiking, played sports, watched movies. They were killed just a couple of weeks ago, very close to each other. I feel sad all the time.
Their deaths made me think more about the meaning of life in general, and the meaning of life in Israel in particular. Why am I in Israel? Is this the place for me? Is there another place? No, there isn’t. This is the place where I am supposed to be. But it’s not easy to see why.
            God has become unclear. He’s heading somewhere, but it’s hard to see how this will all come to a good end.

1. Excerpts from letters of Mervet Akram Sha’ban (Palestinian girl) to Galit Fink (Israeli girl). In If You Could Be My Friend. New York: Orchard Books, 1992.

            Aug. 22, 1988, pp. 16-17:
For eight and a half months our schools have been closed by the Israeli authorities. We had to give back all our books. In the beginning I was happy. Now I am bored. I am tired of playing hopscotch and jumping rope…Now I realize how important it is to learn.

            Oct. 30, 1988, pp. 21-23:
Dear Galit,
            You’re right when you say that war is better when it’s only a game.
            In Dheisheh [refugee camp] our favorite game is called “the Arabs and the soldiers,” the only game I still play once in a while. We split up into two teams. The boys are the soldiers, and the girls and the little ones are the Arabs. The Arabs pretend to be demonstrators and the soldiers hit us. The Arabs run to hide where they can and some are caught. Some collapse because they pretend to be wounded. When I play this game with Mohammed, my [other] brothers, and the children in the neighborhood, I am always the doctor. I run to take care of the wounded with old rags and a bottle of water. Obviously, it is always the Arabs who win in the end….
            But I also know about the real demonstrations. They happen often in Dheisheh. Everyone throws stones. The young people make fun of the soldiers, scream, and scrawl graffiti such as “With our soul and our blood we will avenge our martyrs.” As soon as the soldiers come near, we have to escape as quickly as possible. I’m afraid that Mohammed will be arrested one day; he always has pockets full of stones. You asked me what I think of the Israelis. For me, they are like other people. They are free and they have things we don’t have.
            I don’t like the Jews because they took our country and they mistreat Arabs. But I don’t know any Israelis other than the soldiers.
            Here, no one will stop throwing stones as long as there are soldiers. Especially since the intifada. They make our lives difficult with arrests, wounded people, and deaths. They throw tear gas, shoot bullets, and destroy our homes.
            Not ours, luckily. They have only blown up our hot-water heater. Even so, our family is always worried.

Jan. 1, 1989, pp. 27-28:
I promised to tell you the story of my family. My grandparents lived in a village near Hebron. They told me that they napped on the lawn, grew their own vegetables, and made their own clothes. The village was called Zakariya, but it doesn’t exist anymore. In 1948 the Palestinians had to leave their land because they were driven out by the Jews. Dheisheh was a barren hillside and they settled there with other refugees. In the beginning they didn’t have a house or water or shelter. UNRWA gave them tents to sleep in. When it rained the streets were flooded and filled with mud. In the winter the babies screamed from the cold, and the wind sometimes carried away the tents. My grandmother had to walk more than a mile to get firewood and water. The water container had to last a week for the whole family. They cooked the food they received from UNRWA on a campfire because that was all they had….
After 1950 they started to build small houses. They had one room for households of five or less and two rooms for bigger families. After fifteen years my parents were able to build a big three-room house with a kitchen, running water, and electricity.

Feb. 22, 1989:
I swear to you that the soldiers here are horrible. They treat us badly and beat us like donkeys. One day, in the school courtyard, a little boy lost his eye when he was hit with a rubber bullet. I fainted. I will never be able to forget this….
Since the intifada, they built a very high barricade to stop us from throwing stones on the cars in the road. The army has closed all the entrances to the camp except for one. It is right near our school, but it’s not the one closest to our house. I have to walk twice as far. When there are heavy rains, like we’ve had recently, the big hill that leads to the house is transformed into a mud slide.
Another big problem at Dheisheh is the sewers. The camp is so overpopulated that the dirty water overflows and runs in the gutter all day long.

2. Excerpt from an account by Mona, an 11-year-old Palestinian girl, in Deborah Ellis, Three Wishes: Palestinian and Israeli Children Speak. Toronto: Groundwood Books, 2004. pp. 45—48.

Where I live is not far from this school, but I have to leave my house at five-thirty in the morning to get through the checkpoint in time to get to school. Even then, I am often late. I don’t like getting out of bed when it is still dark, especially in the winter. I know I’ll have to spend a long time waiting at the checkpoints, and it makes me want to stay in bed and not bother to go to school….
            There isn’t even a bathroom. I don’t drink anything before I leave home, in case I get stuck at a checkpoint and have to go to the bathroom. That’s happened to me before. It’s awful. Even without that, my feet get sore from standing and I get bored, bored, bored….The soldiers don’t care that we are people. They think we are goats who don’t mind standing around. But even goats get grass to chew. We get nothing….
            I just want to go to school. I don’t want to blow anything up. The soldiers don’t see me as a child. They see me as an enemy. I don’t like them, but I’m not their enemy. I just want to go to school….
            My father works as a taxi driver. He can only drive people up to the checkpoint, then they have to walk across and find another taxi on the other side. When there is a curfew on, he can’t drive at all, and I can’t come to school. When there are a lot of curfews, or they go an for a long time, my father can’t work. Then my parents argue about money, because there isn’t much of it in the house.
            Soldiers scare me more than anything else. Guns and soldiers. You don’t have to be a bad person to get shot by them. Mostly, it is good people who get shot. You should have to do something bad to get shot, but here, everybody gets shot.
            The fighting is between the innocent Palestinians, who have nothing, and the Israelis, who have everything. I wish all the Israelis would leave my country. I don’t know any Israeli children, and I don’t want to, because they have the same beliefs as their parents. They believe that I am not as good as they are….
            When there is peace, we will be very happy, and we will be able to go anywhere we want to in our land, without having to cross a checkpoint or explain ourselves to a foreign soldier. I don’t know how or when this peace will come. I can’t really imagine it.

3. Excerpt from an account by Mahmood, an 11-year-old Palestinian boy, in Deborah Ellis, Three Wishes: Palestinian and Israeli Children Speak. Toronto: Groundwood Books, 2004. p.49.

There are lots of soldiers where I live. When the soldiers see crowds of Palestinians, they shoot their guns and they drop gas on people. The gas makes my throat hurt and my eyes water up like I’m crying. The gas makes me vomit. When they drop gas on us, I can see a lot of people throwing up. The gas smells bad, too. It doesn’t matter if I am outside or inside, because the gas comes into the house. You can’t keep it out. It is like air.
They drop gas on us so they can watch us cough and throw up. The soldiers all have gas masks, and they all laugh at us when we’re throwing up….
I don’t know any Israeli children. I don’t want to know any. They hate me, and I hate them.

4. Excerpt from an account by Wafa, a 12-year-old Palestinian girl, in Deborah Ellis, Three Wishes: Palestinian and Israeli Children Speak. Toronto: Groundwood Books, 2004. pp. 90—95.

I was eight the first time my house was demolished. It was night time. My family and I were in the living room together.
            Someone pounded on the door. My father opened it. There were soldiers on the other side who said, “This is not your house anymore. This is our house now.”
            My father said, “You are wrong. This is still my house, and I’m not going to give it to you.” He shoved at the soldiers, trying to push them back outside, but there were too many of them. They hit my father on the head with their guns. He fell to the floor, and they kicked him and dragged him outside and put him under arrest….
            Then the soldiers started breaking things. They fired tear gas into the house. My brothers and sisters and I couldn’t breathe and had to run out into the night. The soldiers had gas masks on….
            The soldiers dragged out everybody who was left in the house. I saw a soldier kick my little sister, who had tripped and fallen to the ground. He was yelling at her to get up or the bulldozer would run over her and crush her. I tried to get to her, but a soldier hit me with his M16 and pushed me to the ground.
            Everybody had to get out of the house. I stood and watched as the soldiers drove the giant bulldozer into my house and destroyed it. Everything inside it was destroyed, too.
            My father has lots of Israeli friends. He called them, and many Israelis came to help us rebuild our house. Before they came, I thought all Israelis were our enemies. When so many came to help us, I had to change my mind. The soldiers weren’t mean to us because they are Israelis. They were mean to us because it’s their job, and they enjoy it….
            I have good memories of my house. In my bedroom there were beds and cupboards for books, toys, dolls, puzzles, games – all the normal things that children have….
            We rebuilt our house with the help of our Israeli and Palestinian friends. Just when we had it completed, the bulldozers came and destroyed it.
            Hundreds of volunteers came to rebuild it a third time. Again the soldiers waited until the house was finished and we were ready to move in. I was very excited, because I could live in our real house again after a long time, but they destroyed it again. It is still destroyed….
            I see soldiers all the time. They are everywhere. They make me afraid because I don’t know what they’ll do to me, or when they’ll do it. They keep my town under curfew. They won’t let me do the things I need to do to grow up.
            Under curfew, you have to stay in the house. If you go out of the house you will be killed. Even the women. Event the children. The Israelis will shoot anybody. They don’t care if you are doing anything bad or not….
            My mother hasn’t been well for a long time. She stopped talking. She got very, very sad each time our house was destroyed, until she was too sad to talk. I miss hearing her voice even more than I miss our house….
            My three wishes? I want all the Israelis who are trying to take our land to be killed. I want to be a success in my studies. This will make the Israelis nervous. They don’t want us to study, and they often close our schools. And I want to build a home the soldiers can’t destroy, and live in it with my family.

OMA LESSON PLAN

SUBMITTED BY:

Jonel Lauver & Carole Marlowe Safford Middle School
Name (s) School

TITLE OF LESSON: Music: Conflict & Resolution, Globally and Locally

Preparation: In Perfect Harmony Performance

DURATION: 5 GRADE LEVEL: 5 - 12

(Number of days covered/approx time in class each day)

STATE STANDARD (S) BEING ADDRESSED:

P.O. (S) FOR FINE ARTS:
Music, Intermediate Level:
Strand 1: CREATE, Concept 1: PO: 201,215. Concept 3, PO: 201
Strand 2: RELATE, Concept 1: PO: 201, 202, 203, 205, 210. Concept 2: PO: 202, 203, 204, 205, 206, 207, 208. Concept 3: PO: 201, 202, 203
Strand 3: EVALUATE, Concept 1: PO: 201,202,205,211,212. Concept 2: PO: 203

P.0. (S) FOR MATHEMATICS:
Math, Grade 7
Strand 2: DATA ANALYSIS , Concept 1: PO: 1, 2, 4, 6, 8
Strand 3: PATTERNS, ALGEBRA, & FUNCTIONS, Concept 1: PO: 1, 2, 3

MATERIALS:

CD’s with political message in the music such as: Claude Chalhoub, Bob Dylan, Dixie Chicks, Shostakovich, Stravinsky, Michael Franti, Pete Seeger, or any music that contains political messages.
CD’s with Israeli and Middle Eastern music.
Sheet music for your instrumental music class (Orchestra examples: “Lebedike Honga” by Julie Lyonn Liebermann for the Klezmer style and/or “Isma’a (Listen)” by Leanne Darling for the Middle Eastern sound).
Informational background on the following instruments: cello, violin, Klezmer clarinetist, oud, and hand drums.
KWL Worksheets or chart
NPR Website: Latino USA.org
Google: Political Music
Wikipedia: Music of Israel
www.philorch.org
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Christmas_truce

LESSON PLAN DESIGN: (Introduction, Body of Lesson, Review and Conclusion)

A. INTRODUCTORY ACTIVITIES/ACTIVATION OF PRIOR KNOWLEDGE:

Conduct a pre-knowledge assessment of what the students know about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict and music from that region. Students can complete a KWL worksheet in pairs, or this activity could be done as a class, using a KWL chart. Give a brief overview of the history of this region’s conflict and music.

B. TEACHING THE LESSON:

Discuss the components of Israeli music and Middle Eastern music. Clarify similarities and differences using a graphic organizer. Play excerpts of both from a CD and let students play it themselves if possible. Have students classify the listening and playing examples according to the characteristics listed in their graphic organizers (classification is a math standard). Explain the origins of the four instruments that will be played by the ensemble in the concert.

How has music influenced conflicts throughout history? What are the many roles of music in society? Discuss some obvious highlights from “music and historical conflict” such as: 1800 Russia to 1950 South Africa to 1960 US Civil Rights. Use recordings to demonstrate the political message. What are characteristics of “fighting” music vs. “calming” music?

Has music ever been used to resolve conflict? Do enemies ever come together through art? Can music express resolution? One easy example is the halting of fire during Christmas Eve while American and German sides both sang Silent Night during WWI.

How did the In Perfect Harmony ensemble come together? How does their music express resolution? Do you think their music can resolve the conflict? How will it do so? Have students research this question individually or in groups.


C. REVIEW/REINFORCE

After each day's lesson, write one thing they learned. As homework, try to listen for political messages in any music they hear, and document the songs and their styles. Create a graph showing how many songs were found in each style.


D.CONCLUDING THE LESSON:

Review main points of: political music, music of resolution, and music from the Middle East. Discuss audience behavior and make a list of things to look for at the performance and questions that they might like to ask the musicians.

EXTENSION ACTIVITIES:

Discuss what conflicts exist in your community, your school, your state? What type of music would express the resolution of that conflict?

Compose this resolution music. Combine two styles of music from two different cultures.

Incorporating additional mathematics instruction in the lessons:

Mean, median & mode of pitches in sheet music – count the number of times each pitch appears to calculate mean, median & mode. You could also determine the mean, median and mode of a listening example for how many times particular instruments play.
Graphing – Count the number of pitches in sheet music or how many instruments you hear in a listening example and put the information into a graph (e.g. bar graph, line graph).
Geometry coordinates with sheet music – create plot points as follows: x-axis = measure # - beat #, y-axis = pitch name – instrument fingering. For example, for violins playing “Happy Birthday” in D Major (2-1, F# - D2) means students would write a note on beat one of the second measure in the first space of the music staff. You can also have students write the coordinates for selected pitches in their sheet music.
Patterns in music – determine a rhythmic pattern characteristic of each musical style. Translate that rhythmic pattern into a number pattern (go to www.teachervision.fen.com/math-principles/lesson-plan/10343.html for a great example of relating a rhythm pattern to a simple number pattern).

ASSESSMENT (S):

Participation in discussion, written work turned in and performing music in classroom. Attentiveness at performance and participation in post-performance discussion.

Additional Poetry Supplements:

Woman Martyr
by Agi Mishol Translated by Lisa Katz

The evening goes blind, and you are only twenty. : Nathan Alterman, “Late Afternoon in the Market” You are only twenty and your first pregnancy is a bomb. Under your broad skirt you are pregnant with dynamite and metal shavings. This is how you walk in the market, ticking among the people, you, Andaleeb Takatka. Someone loosened the screws in your head and launched you toward the city; even though you come from Bethlehem, the Home of Bread, you chose a bakery. And there you pulled the trigger out of yourself, and together with the Sabbath loaves, sesame and poppy seed, you flung yourself into the sky. Together with Rebecca Fink you flew up with Yelena Konre’ev from the Caucasus and Nissim Cohen from Afghanistan and Suhila Houshy from Iran and two Chinese you swept along to death. Since then, other matters have obscured your story, about which I speak all the time without having anything to say.
"Woman Martyr" by Agi Michol, translated from the Hebrew by Lisa Katz. English language translation copyright 2006 by Lisa Katz. Reprinted from Look There: New and Selected Poems

Taha Muhammad Ali, translated by Peter Cole, Yahya Hijazi, and Gabriel Levin

Sabha’s Rope

Do you remember, Abu Muhammad,
do you remember when Sabha,
our neighbor Abu Hashem’s cow,
swallowed the rope?
Do you remember how,
as she was dying,
they slaughtered her,
and, by lamplight,
flayed her and then,
bit by bit, with axes,
hacked her into pieces?

Emm Hashem
sent up her wailing,
as the knives sliced
away at Sabha,
and her daughters wept.
Everyone grieved,
and everyone let a hand,
insisting,
“We’ll share the burden.
We’ll manage.”
All the neighbors
rushed together,
shoulder to shoulder,
without exception
to buy Sabha’s meat!
Do you remember—
or have you fallen asleep?

No, I’m awake—
of course I remember,
and I remember, too,
that no one ever
tasted a piece of that meat!
It was grilled,
fried, cooked,
and minced for chopmeat,
but no one ate it!
The people felt
they were slicing into flesh
fresh from a cadaver,
as though it were Abu Hashem’s body,
or that of his family,
being carved.
Men and women turned in disgust
and threw it away.

For a while,
the village was choked
in a muted sort of grief,
like Abu Hashem’s hoarse voice,
and green as Sabha’s eyes.

-----------
Taha Muhammad Ali, translated by Peter Cole, Yahya Hijazi, and Gabriel Levin
The Bell at Forty: The Destruction of a Village

The past dozes beside me
as the ringing does
beneath its grandfather bell.
And the bitterness follows me,
as chicks trail
after the mother hen.
And the horizon…
that eyelid tightly shut
over the sands and blood—
what did it leave you?
And, what hope does it hold?

-----------

Yehuda Amichai, translated by Stephen Mitchell
On Yom Kippur in 1967 ...

On Yom Kippur in 1967, the Year of Forgetting, I put on
my dark holiday clothes and walked to the Old City of
                                                                    Jerusalem.
For a long time I stood in front of an Arab's hole-in-the-wall
                                                                          shop,
not far from the Damascus Gate, a shop with
buttons and zippers and spools of thread
in every color and snaps and buckles.
A rare light and many colors, like an open Ark.
I told him in my heart that my father too
had a shop like this, with thread and buttons.
I explained to him in my heart about all the decades
and the causes and the events, why I am now here
and my father's shop was burned there and he is buried here.
When I finished, it was time for the Closing of the Gates
                                                                          prayer.
He too lowered the shutters and locked the gate
and I returned, with all the worshippers, home.

-----------

Yehuda Amichai, translated by Stephen Mitchell
Everyone hears a step at night ...

Everyone hears a step at night,
not only prisoners, everyone hears.
Everything is steps at night,
receding or approaching,
but never arriving close enough
to be touched. That is man's
mistake about God and God's mistake about man.

-----------
Yehuda Amichai
GOD HAS PITY ON KINDERGARTEN CHILDREN

God has pity on kindergarten children.
He has less pity on school children
And on grownups he has no pity at all,
he leaves them alone,
and sometimes they must crawl on all fours
in the burning sand
to reach the first–aid station
covered with blood.

But perhaps he will watch over true lovers
and have mercy on them and shelter them
like a tree over the old man
sleeping on a public bench.

Perhaps we too will give them
the last rare coins of charity
that Mother handed down to us
so that their happiness may protect us
now and on other days.

-----------
Shirley Kaufman
The Blue Shirt

See the man with the basket
of fruit and vegetables.

You mean by the Roman arch?

The one with the blue shirt
and sandals.

By the Sixth Station of the Cross?

With the child eating a banana.

Where Veronica wiped the sweat
from His face with her handkerchief?

No. No. The blue shirt,
the basket of vegetables.

-----------
-Orkhan Muyassar (1914-1965)
Syrian poet and critic. Born in Istanbul to an old Syrian family, he moved with his parents to Aleppo, when he was fourteen. He studied first in Aleppo and Lebanon, then in Chicago, where he studied both literature and science.

Translated by Lena Hayyusi and Samuel Hazo

Lost

This god who has gaped ever since we created him
and shrined him in the sky
I wish he had never spoken
but only opened his heart and arms
to embrace those
who created him
and made him a legend.
I wish his shadow had stayed
uncolored by the world
his silhouette had remained
untouched by motion,
his words had lasted
without being eaten
and re-eaten.

Instead he mutinied against his creator
wanted him to be the created
and man was lost between two creations—
his creation of the god
and the god’s creation of him
still, creator and created
became a single destiny,
marching as one
toward a new creation
that is still beyond us.

-----------
-Amjad Nasir (b. 1955)
Jordanian poet. Born in al-Turra in Jordan, he obtained his primary and secondary education in the town of Zarqa.

translated by May Jayyusi and Charles Doria

Exile

you see
we haven’t changed that much
perhaps not at all
our words are still
strong, clear
the way we Bedouins talk
long embraces
asking after family and herds
laughing thunderously
the scent of old wood
stored in barns
still breathes from our clothes

you see
we haven’t changed that much
perhaps not at all
we still squat on the earth
washlines still block
the doors to our houses
our children covered with dust
while in the evenings over mint tea
we exchange gossip
that refreshes
we still avenge our honor
our blood
has not changed to water
we live
as if still living in al-Mafraq
or Salt, Karak or Ramtha
as if we hadn’t crossed
northern borders
to big cities and coasts
where cruel war rages
and a great sea roars
where strangers clutch at each other’s shirtcollars,
from balconies
shoot bullets through washlines

-----------
-‘Abd al-‘Aziz al-Maqalih (b. 1939)
Yemeni poet and scholar. He completed his higher education at Cairo University and became very active in the literary life in Yemen, both as a writer and lecturer on literarture and as director of the Center for Yemen Studies in San‘aa.

Translated by Lena Jayyusi and Christopher Middleton

Choice

Between grief on my knees and death on my feet
I choose death:
between a safe silence and a voice that’s bloodied
I choose the voice:
between a slap and a bullet
I choose the bullet:
between the sword and the whip
I choose the sword:
This is my destiny and my glory,
this is the longing of man.

Once God was love, a plentiful cloud,
daylight at night,
a song extended
over the hills of grief,
a heaven that washed with green rain
the furrows in the earth.
Where did the ship of God go? Where the song and man’s rebellion?

Now God is ashes, silence,
a terror in the executioners’ hands,
an earth swelling with oil,
a field where rosaries and turbans grow.

Between God the song of revolution
and the god coming from Hollywood
on tapes, in stacks of dollar bills:
I choose God the song, I choose God the revolution.

Love was a springtime for all seasons,
a lovely girl whose supple feet
rested on the sea, whose palms
touched the sun.
Her braids spread over the green hills of poetry,
she had bread for her lovers,
the wine of luscious dreams was on her lips.

Now love’s tree has grown old,
love’s eyes are dull.
the leaves of poetry have been torched,
all seasons are winter,
love has become banknotes and the hearts of men
have turned to ice.

Between love the deal and love the poetry:
I choose love, I choose poetry.

-----------
Muhammad Bennis (b. 1948)
Moroccan poet. Educated in Morocco, he is the editor of the avant-garde magazine Al-Thaqafa Al Jadida (New Culture).

Translated by Sharif Elmusa and Charles Doria

Belonging to a New Family

My father recommended safety
fearing to contradict law and order
he memorized the legal code, advised me:
if you’re wise, stay out of politics

But how crowded courts and prisons have become
how gallows have swung, bullets shined
how much blood shed, enveloped castles of anger and mutiny
down through the ages!

How this question turns colorless, emptied of meaning
whether I dream or wake?
How the silence that reigns behind numb curtains
slips away in the absence, pierces walls
and becomes tablets of wrath? How such curtains reveal
voices spreading on flame to bring us to the massacres of history?

How can we sit on chairs, strapped down by advice
recommending safe submission?
How return?
Without taking action
words lie dead on library shelves
canned in manuscripts, newspapers, books

-----------
-Muhammad al-Maghut (b. 1934)
Syrian poet and playwright. Self-educated, he has lived in Damascus and Beirut and spent a few years in the Gulf, where he was in charge of the cultural section of the periodical Al-Khalij (The Gulf).

Translated by May Jayyusi and Johna Heath-Stubbs

Tourist

My childhood is a long way off
My old age is a long way off
My country, my exile, a long way off.
Tourist!
Give me your binoculars
Perhaps I might glimpse a hand or a handkerchief
In this whole world
Waving at me
Take my photograph as I weep
Crouching in my tatters on the steps of the hotel
Write on the back of the picture
“This is a poet from the East.”
Spread your handkerchief on the pavement
And sit beside me under this tender rain
Let me disclose to you a great secret:
“Go, dismiss all your guides
Throw to the mud . . . to the fire
All the notes and impressions you’ve written
Any old peasant in this land
Can tell you with no verses from our sad ‘Atāba songs
All the history of the East
As he rolls his cigarette in front of his tent.”

-----------
-Sa‘di Yusuf
Iraqi poet. He completed his higher education in Iraq, subsequently occupying responsible positions in various cultural institutions in Iraq.

Translated by Lena Jayyusi and Naomi Shihab Nye

Departure of ’82

In a while, all the rooms will be sealed.
Starting with the basement
we shall leave this place
chamber
by chamber
till we arrive at the roof
where the anti-aircraft cannons stand.
We will leave them standing there like that,
like the rooms,
and depart
to search in our blood, our own geography,
for other rooms!

-----------
Peter Cole

From “One to Bet: A Jerusalem Pamphlet”

II.

There were several “heads”—in Hebrew, literally houses of service, or use—off the courtyard that first year. All the way across the cistern, mine in the corner was dark, mossy alcove that established the act in the order of things. Barefoot or sandaled middle of the night trips were especially Levantine as they involved the blind negotiation of what with dark turned into a minefield of fat, mucilaginous slugs.
My neighbor’s, at the compound entrance, was plastered closet directly beside its twin, his kitchen. Both formed a tight right angle to the door to his room. A pensioner, Herzl worked, he told me, part-time at the Ministry of Education.
One day when I was walking into East Jerusalem, twenty minutes from my house, the sky opened in a mountain thunderstorm. Drenched, I turned around and began walking home. Suddenly I heard my name being called. Not my name exactly, but one that now belonged to me. “Biton! Biton!” It was Herzl, who from the first had trouble with Peter, hearing Buhtter, and then, after I’d corrected him, settled on Biton, a common Moroccan last name, generally associated with organized crime.
I was, sure enough, standing outside of the impressive Ministry of Education, which was housed in what once had been the Italian hospital and was constructed in perfect Florentine style with a large tower and sensitive sloping roof of sienna tile. Herzl, the parking lot attendant, ushered m into his booth. “Bo, Bo, tikah-ness.” (“Come, come, come in.”) He took out his electric fork and began preparing a cup of tea. I was making conversation. My Hebrew was new, but good. Herzl would always comment on my reading as he puttered around the courtyard in his tattered pajamas, setting cucumbers out in the sun in a big pickling jar, or doing the laundry. “You’re going to be famous,” he’d caution me, wagging his surprisingly fat finger. “But do you have a Girl?” His own Hebrew was halting, after nearly forty years in the country.
Suddenly the news in Yiddish came on. He held up the finger and concentrated on the voice coming out of the black box on the shelf in the booth. “That,” he said to me sharply, “is Yiddish. That you don’t understand!”
Another time we were sitting in his dirty one room crowded and his tailor’s equipment and orders. He was serving up the usual tea and cookies with brandy on the side. We were watching a big black-and-white TV. I asked him if he’d ever been marred. He looked up at me, startled, his idiot-blue eyes glittering uncontrollably, his white hair slicked down around the side of his head. He had several gold fillings. “Of course,” he said, proudly at first, his voice oddly rising toward the end of the one Hebrew word with its penultimate stress—beh-taach. “I had a wife, children, a telephone…. I had EVERYTHING. HITLER took them! --- What do you know?”

III.

Not the sweet medieval lyric of When; the dry, piss and jasmine scent of There.

Dusk with its pink streaks and startling Giotto light settling onto Mt. Zion. Nationalistic kitsch drifts up from the community center choir in the valley below to the left; Palestinian drummers in youth-group rehearsal march up and down the same few permissible streets in a percussive crescendo one neighborhood below to the right.

Zion, from t Hebrew root tsiya, parched land.

Other possible etymologies relate the word to tsayon, stronghold, or the Hurrian tseya, running water.

The aspiration to dryness on the one hand, a satyr-like shade on the other.

-----------
Peter Cole
Boxes

Fleshy, farmer-like, Gershuni is showing us his Tel Aviv bunker studio whose walls are huge with spirals and blackened turquoise night skies swarming with cypress and arrows and Hebrew and stars. He dreams of the day when every Israeli will have one of his hand-smeared paintings over the household TV. “Shalom soldier!” “Beautiful soldier,” they cry. Moustache and helmet and Marilyn Monroe mouths.
We talk for several hours, and he shows us everything, including the new kiln and his porcelain dishware, painted with swastikas and liturgical scrawl. He and May, my Chinese friend, get into a long conversation about how best to exhibit them. Now we’re deciding where to have lunch. I explain that May had her first gefilte fish the night before. “I loved it,” she ways. Gershuni is handling a set of plates and trying to get them back into storage. He doesn’t seem to be interested and smacks his lips, missing their cigar. Still looking down at the places, he says, as though turning a corner, “Be careful May. You start with gefilte fish and who knows where you’ll end up.” It’s time to go, He’s given us three powerful miniatures to take back to the States. They seem to be waving what Shabtai has called “the flag of ugliness.” Two are shoebox paintings with cracked lacquer, smeared Hebrew, and acrylic—blacked and red maculate praise from the psalm that says “Pray for the peace of Jerusalem; May they prosper that love thee.” Gershuni has the next verse as one of his themes for these flattened scrap-heap boxes—“For the sake of my brethren and companions, I will now say: ‘Peace be within thee.’” which mixes sex, history, and religion—like Tennessee Williams said you shouldn’t if you want to succeed in America.
Then there’s the rejected lithograph from the Bialik series—the blackest twisting trees and pan-erotic holocaust inscription: “and we’ll remember them all.”

-----------
-Salah ‘Abd al-Sabur (1931-1981)
Egyptian poet and dramatist. Educated at the University of Cairo, he served as editor of the influential monthly, Al-Katib; as Undersecretary of State for Culture; and then as head of the Egyptian Book Institute until his death.

Translated by Lena Jayyusi and John Heath-Stubbs

The People of My Country

The people of my country wound like falcons
Their songs are like the chill of winter in the rain’s locks
Their laughter hisses like flame though firewood
Their footsteps dent the firm earth
They kill, steal, drink, belch,
But they have their human worth and are good
When they have a handful of money
They hold fast to their belief in fate.
As one entered my village there sat my Uncle Mustafa
Who loved the Prophet
Who spent the hour
Between dusk and nightfall surrounded
By musing men
To whom he told a tale
Rooted in experience
A tale that stirred
Within their souls
The pain of man’s mortality.
And it made them weep and bow their heads
Staring into silence
Into the gulf of deep terror and silence.
“What is the purpose of man’s striving, what is the purpose of life?
Oh God!
The Sun declares Thy glory, the crescent moon is Thy brow
And these unshakable mountains are Thy steadfast throne
Thou art He whose will is accomplished, Oh God!
A certain man rose to eminence, erected castles
with forty rooms filled with glittering gold
And on one faint twilight evening
Azrael came to him
his fingers grasping a small book
And Azrael stretched out his staff
with the secret of life and death
and that man’s soul was pitched into Hell!
(Oh God! . . .
How cruel and full of menace thou art,
Oh God!)”

Yesterday I visited my village
Uncle Mustafa had died
They laid him to rest in the earth
He built no castles (his hut was of mud)
And behind his ancient coffin
Walked those who, like him, owned only an old cotton gown
They said no word of God or Azrael
For it was a year of famine
And at the door of the tomb stood my friend Khaleel
Uncle Mustafa’s grandson
And when he stretched up his brawny arms towards the sky
A look of contempt flickered across his eyes
For it was a year of famine.

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In Perfect Harmony Symposium February 16-17, 2008

The Educational Connection for Middle/High Schools

Table of Contents

In Perfect Harmony - A Companion Curriculum; Introduction: By Bryan Davis, M.Ed.

Conflict and Compromise Since 1948

Tasting the Sky: A Palestinian Childhood

Map from npr.org

OMA LESSON PLAN

SUBMITTED BY:

TITLE OF LESSON: Music: Conflict & Resolution, Globally and Locally

Preparation: In Perfect Harmony Performance

DURATION: 5 GRADE LEVEL: 5 - 12

In Perfect Harmony Symposium
February 16-17, 2008

In Perfect Harmony - A Companion Curriculum; Introduction:
By Bryan Davis, M.Ed.