By Tuvia Tenenbom on 8.6.09 @ 6:07AM
European NGO style in East Jerusalem, where purportedly
demolished homes apparently had no inhabitants.
JERUSALEM -- "I was sitting at home," tells me a young German
lady in her mid-twenties, "and I read what the Jews were doing to
the poor Palestinians. I knew that I must stop this. They are
Nazis!" It is why, she says to me, she left Germany and came
here: Al-Bustan, Silwan, East Jerusalem. The Palestinians, she
explains to me, built their homes in Silwan 200 years ago and now
the Jews are destroying them. Out of curiosity, I ask her if she
also feels sympathy for the Chechen or the Tibetans, and could
she share with me her thoughts about Rwanda or Darfur. "I don't
know much about foreign affairs," comes her reply.
I meet her at a press conference held by the United Nations'
Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs, popularly
known as OCHA, and by Save The Children UK, a British NGO. The
press conference takes place under hole-ridden dirty sheets,
which the locals call "The Tent." Why in such an eyesore of a
place? I'm not sure, but perhaps the organizers here thought that
this would be the best way to convey an image of Palestinians
living in utter misery. The fact that this tent stands on the
roof of a one-family house seems to bother none of these
organizers, mostly blond European NGO folks. What bothers them,
it soon becomes evident, is the lack of Suffering Palestinians in
the audience.
The press conference is slightly delayed until hot Turkish coffee
and tastiest of Rugelach are brought in. Miraculously, before you
realize what's happening, a line of women in shiny Hijabs forms
next to the Free Rugelach. Authentic look in order, the press
conference starts. "300,000 Palestinians are in danger of losing
their homes in the West Bank," we're informed by the UK folks. A
saddened Philippe Lazzarini, who's Head of OCHA, offers his deep
regrets about this "misery and denied dignity" and decries the
"3,000 demolition orders in the West Bank." How did the figure
drop so fast from 300,000 to 3,000 is anybody's guess, but at
least the digit "3" exists in both versions.
Philippe, who hails from Switzerland, passionately promises that
the UN will do all it can to help. A Rugelach-eating local has a
question. Why is it that the people who've lost their homes don't
get help? The NGOs have so much money, says the Rugelach-eater,
why not share it with needy families and their little kids? Isn't
this, after all, the stated purpose of the NGOs and the UN? The
Rugelach-eater is immediately shushed. "The issue here is
politics, not individuals," comes a stern reply. "Individuals
will get nothing! Questions from the media only, please!"
Clearing my throat, I ask the esteemed Europeans for exact date
of most recent demolition in the area. In reply, I get four
different dates: "March 10, 2009." "June 10, 2009." "November,
2008." "January 28, 2009." Ms. Elin Asgeirsdottir, a blond from
Iceland who fears that I might get a bad impression, quickly
slips in a note to me that she's available to supply required
info. She has the stats; she's a Humanitarian Affairs Officer at
OCHA.
I ask if it's possible to meet a family whose home was recently
destroyed. I'd really appreciate if I could interview people who
lost their 200-year-old home to Israeli bulldozers. No problem.
I'm introduced to Mr. Fakhri, a man who holds the title Head of
The Silwan Committee. "He'll take you to the people," I'm told.
But Mr. Fakhri, an al-Bustan resident who himself faces a
demolition order, is not exactly in the mood. He looks at me,
then at the German girl next to me, and decides to go for the
girl. "I'll get you a nice German man to show you around," he
says. I make it abundantly clear to Mr. Fakhri that he can't
separate between the German girl and me. We're together today.
Having no choice, Mr. Fakhri takes both of us on a tour of
al-Bustan, an amazingly beautiful neighborhood with colorful
alleys and picturesque backyards. How old is his house, I ask
him? "I built it in 1992," he says. Did he get a permit to build
it? "No, no permits. You come to my home, I give you cold
drinks."
We finally return to The Tent without meeting any displaced
person whatsoever. I take a last look at my surrounding: "End the
Demolition," says a sign in English. "No to Judaization," says
the sign in Arabic. Both signs paid for by, thank you, the
Europeans. I ask Mr. Fakhri if I could take his picture. He
offers me a great smile. The German girl admonishes him: "You're
not supposed to laugh. You're suffering!"
Truth be said, it's Mr. Fakhri who got it right. He simply can't
stop laughing when he hears foreign officials, including members
of the Obama Administration, utter lines that were concocted at
The Tent. Why is it that the Americans buy everything the
European NGOs and the UN are selling them? Maybe Kafka would be
able to explain this; I don't. Long live Europe. It's good to be
blond. Hillary Clinton is too.
topics:
Israel, Palestine