PILGRIMAGE TO PALESTINE — A REFLECTION
A delegation of Christian leaders from around the globe, including a cohort from South Africa, spent Christmas in Bethlehem in a demonstration of solidarity with Palestinian Christians and citizens of the Gaza strip. The pilgrimage was organised by Kairos
Ihave been gripped by a sense of helplessness since October 7. The sheer scale of the horror inflicted on the people of Gaza is beyond comprehension. While the world’s attention is rightly focused on Gaza, the Israeli military has intensified its reign of terror in the West Bank. Since October 7, more than 300 Palestinians, including 79 children, have lost their lives, and almost 5,000 people in the West Bank have been detained. My daily torment revolves around the fate of those I encountered in March 2023 during my visit to the West Bank to create images for an exhibition commemorating the 75th anniversary of the Nakba, and the first anniversary of journalist Shereen Abu Akleh’s murder. When the opportunity arose to stand in solidarity with Palestinians in Bethlehem on Christmas Day alongside an international cohort of clergy, it felt like a prayer had been answered. Without hesitation I joined the pilgrimage, motivated not as a journalist or photographer but to bear witness to the genocide that was unfolding before us.
Our diverse group — made up mainly of South African clergy, included two Americans, a Canadian resident in Colombia and an Ecuadorean — navigated the inevitable interrogation and delays at the Israeli border before proceeding to East Jerusalem, where we would be staying for a few days. Our Palestinian counterparts had set up several meetings with all the leading representatives of the mainstream churches in Jerusalem, and with a leading Muslim cleric, as well as with civil society groups.
Our first meeting was with a group of Armenian activists who had pitched tents on some church property and were guarding the site. The land had been illegally sold, in their opinion, to an Australian Zionist developer whose intention was to build a luxury hotel on the site. They were determined to prevent any construction until the courts had resolved the matter. They were expecting the developer to send in thugs to evict them and were prepared to physically defend the space. A week later we read newspaper reports that they had indeed been attacked, in the presence of the police, and had to physically fight off the attack.
BIZZARE REGULATION
The next few days were punctuated by meetings and visits to important holy sites in East Jerusalem, including the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. We met Bishop William Shomali of the Catholic Church, Archbishop Theodosios of the Greek Orthodox Patriarchate of Jerusalem, Canon Don Binder, the chaplain to Bishop Hosam Naoum at St George’s Cathedral, Jerusalem, and Sheikh Ikrima Sabri, a former imam at the Al-Aqsa Mosque. The sheikh had been detained on numerous occasions by the Israeli regime, but in good humour he brushed this aside as he shared his insights on the situation in Palestine and his thoughts about the future
A meeting with former prisoner Mohammed
Firawi tears me up. Mohammed had been held in an Israeli prison for 10 years. He’d been detained and sentenced to eight years on allegations that he threw a rock at an Israeli soldier. He claimed that, since he
was at home under house arrest at the time of the alleged incident, it was impossible for him to be guilty.
The added two years of his sentence were because his family was unable to pay a fine. Israel has a bizarre regulation that burdens the family of the prisoner with a fee, which can be several thousand dollars, to cover the upkeep of the prisoner during their time in jail. Israel argues that it is unacceptable for Palestinian prisoners to expect the Israeli taxpayer to foot the bill for their imprisonment.
As he calmly shared his experiences in an Israeli jail — being beaten up and urinated on, stripped naked and blindfolded whenever he was moved from one detention centre to another, having a hosepipe pushed through the cell window and being drenched with cold water in the middle of the night in winter, the torture of children by Israeli prison authorities, the sexual abuse of women prisoners, including girls, the sexual abuse of boys — something in me just gave way and I could not hold back the tears.
UNCOWED
Firawi was 17 when he went into prison. His youth snatched away from him. Detained for 10 years. And yet, there he sat before us, uncowed. When asked if he
was not afraid of talking to us, he smiled wryly, shrugged his shoulders, and said every Palestinian young man lives with the reality of detention and redetention. It was difficult to focus through my tears as I photographed him. The epitome of Palestinian resilience.
We also met Illan Baruch, a former Israeli ambassador to South Africa. He gave some perspective on the psyche of Israeli society and the current thinking of the political leadership in Israel. While he is a proponent of the two-state solution, he was not optimistic.
In complete contrast to Firawi’s harrowing experiences as a prisoner were the views of Daniel Shek, a former Israeli diplomat. According to Shek, there is a valid reason why every one of the 6,500plus Palestinian detainees is in Israeli prisons and detention centres and each has access to the International Red Cross, legal representation and medical health services, unlike the hostages still in the hands of Hamas. His disdain for Hamas is palpable.
We met Shek and his colleague Alon Liel at the Family Forum, the ad hoc NGO that was set up to assist the families of those who were taken hostage on October 7. Liel is also a former ambassador to
South Africa. As I listen to both of them, I understand that the trauma for the families of the hostages can be overwhelming.
Shek refers to a four-year-old child held hostage. He demands to know what that child did to deserve being kidnapped. He expresses concern for the elderly who might be in need of medicine. I cannot help but think about the prime targets of the Israeli bombardment of Gaza: hospitals and medical facilities. I also recall the images of hostages released by Hamas and how relatively well cared for they looked compared to the prisoners released from Israeli detention centres in exchange.
FOBBED OFF WITH LIES
As we leave the offices of the Family Forum, I am angry. How is it possible that seemingly intelligent, sophisticated individuals could be so singular in their outrage? Despite troves of literature documenting the abuse of Palestinian prisoners, we are fobbed off with lies. Absolutely no empathy for the victims in Gaza and the West Bank. No call for an end to the daily slaughter of thousands of innocent women, children and civilians. No mention of the premature babies left to die in hospitals. I found it hard to listen to Shek’s righteous anger. A ceasefire only to ensure the return of the remaining hostages. A pause actually. No interest in discussing the root causes of the conflict. I remember Baruch’s talk.
Tel Aviv was an unexpected but welcome detour. An opportunity to engage with ordinary Israelis. Walking to “Hostage Square” after our encounter at the Family Forum, I was not so sure. I was seething that we were not granted an opportunity to voice an opinion or ask questions. On the square I immersed myself in photographing the people, the artwork and the performers. What looked like a group of friends chatting in a circle on the square caught my eye. One young man had a big machine gun casually slung across his shoulder. Then I started noticing it more, the nonchalant display of weaponry. I was relieved when we headed off to Bethlehem.
GHOST TOWN
Our friend and custodian Omar Haramy of Sabeel, an ecumenical grassroots liberation theology movement among Palestinian Christians, briefed us on the bus as we headed off to the West Bank. We talked of the challenges of checkpoints and travel restrictions. When we reached Bethlehem, we had our first reallife encounter with Israeli might. At the town border checkpoint, we were informed that the bus did not have the required documentation to enter Bethlehem and that we would have to disembark and proceed on foot, carrying our luggage until alternative transport could be arranged to take us to our accommodation. We also learnt that Haramy would not be accompanying us any further. As we walked off, he cheerfully called out, “Watch out for the landmines.” We crossed a barbed wire and steel barrier and there, controlling the barrier, had our first close-up of an Israel Defense Forces (IDF) soldier; young, arrogant, and heavily armed.
Bethlehem, a city I had come to love. Busy streets, packed restaurants, vendors tugging at your sleeve, inviting you into their shops, always with a “come, come, just to look”. Invariably you leave with something in your hand. What we found was a ghost town. Christmas is the peak tourist season. Christians come from all over the world to celebrate the birth of Jesus in the town.
MESMERISED AND FEARFUL
The assault on Gaza and the West Bank has scared off the tourists. About 80% of Bethlehem’s economy is dependent on tourism and having just recovered from the ravages of Covid, the town was on its knees. The jovial enticement from shopkeepers has been replaced by a desperate plea to buy anything. A shopkeeper I met during my previous visit tells me that days go by without a sale, and that he’s had to dig into his meagre savings to get by, savings built up over the years to send his son to university.
At the Lutheran Guest House we met the Rev Munther Isaac, pastor of the Christmas Lutheran Church in Bethlehem. The handsome young man immediately reminded me of the struggle priests back home. A day later I was privileged to listen to one of the greatest sermons I have ever heard. Eloquent, stern and direct. A sermon directed at the international community. Describing the pain of Gaza and the silence from the world community, he muses: “Is it because we are not white?” He says he is broken and angry, warning his friends in Europe and the US never to speak to him again about human rights and international law. I am mesmerised. I am also fearful. We have seen in the past how such caring, loving individuals can “disappear”. Not being a prayerful person, I find myself praying for his safety.
CHECKPOINT 300
I offer to be a guide to the “Wall” for any in our group who have never seen a part of the more than 600km of concrete that engulfs the occupied territories. It is a welcome respite. We have a moment to be tourists. At the monstrosity that is Checkpoint 300, we become aware of the presence of an IDF patrol. I advise the group that it is best to withdraw. One or two people feel that we should not, that we should confront them. Thankfully I win the argument, and we pull back.
The next day we cross into Jordan for more meetings with humanitarian and civil society groups. Two of our members get to meet the families of injured children in hospital who had been evacuated from Gaza. For the first time in more than a week, I am able to breathe normally. I am less anxious but also conscious of my fatigue. I don’t have the words to express how grateful I am to have made the trip.