Eitan Bronstein, of MCC partner organization Zochrot, stands among the ruins of the Palestinian village of Immwas, site of the biblical village of Emmaus.
“Was that man lying, or just ignorant?”
That was my question to Eitan Bronstein of MCC partner Zochrot. Eitan, an Israeli Jew, had just pulled over to ask an orthodox Jewish pedestrian in the Israeli settlement of Mevo Horon if he knew of any signs of previous Arab villages in that area. We knew that the village of Beit Nuba—destroyed by Israeli forces in 1967—had been nearby, and were looking for any remains of it among the red-tile-roofed houses, dairy barns, poultry houses, and well-watered fields of this growing settlement.
The Israeli Jewish settlement of Mevo Horon, built atop the demolished West Bank Palestinian village of Beit Nuba. Trailer homes in the foreground indicate areas of new expansion.
In his response to Eitan, I noticed that the kippah-wearing bearded man used a certain Hebrew word over and over—klum, klum, klum—“nothing, nothing, nothing.” Thus, Eitan later explained, the man had faithfully recited Israel’s national mythology: That is, before they arrived, Palestine was a “desert.” There was nothing and nobody in this area before they came, established their homes and farms, and made it bloom. As the saying goes, “A land without a people for a people without a land.”
Hardly.
We continued our search as Eitan drove in a few more circles among the settlement’s houses. Like all settlements, Mevo Horon is considered illegal under international law. Built on occupied Palestinian land in the West Bank, it lies on the “Israeli” side of the separation barrier, with no indication of the Green Line, the internationally recognized border, anywhere to be seen.
We couldn’t find any evidence of Beit Nuba until we were about to leave. Passing the school, we noticed large patches of telltale saber cactus—a hardy plant that Palestinians historically used as natural fences in their villages. Patches of it stubbornly cling to areas where villages were long ago eradicated, making it an apt symbol of Palestinian sumoud, or “steadfastness.”
Stone fence rows, overgrown olive trees, and saber cactus patches all indicate a former Palestinian village. The roof of the Israeli settlement school is visible to the far left.
We waded shin-deep through dewy overgrowth, soaking our pants and shoes as we made our way toward the patch, searching for what we hoped would be a more definite sign of the village’s existence.
Eitan saw it first—unmistakable amid the weeds, just a few dozen meters from the settlement’s school where we could hear teachers and students reciting lessons in Hebrew—a Palestinian grave. Obviously Muslim in its design, upon closer inspection Arabic letters were still visible despite the ravages of time or vandalism, or both.
A Muslim grave is plainly visible behind the settlement school.
Further from the school and the grave, we found stone fence rows among abandoned olive groves—evidence belying claims of an uncultivated “desert.” Dense undergrowth indicated that this agricultural settlement was not tending these ancient trees, left behind when their original keepers had fled. Still further on, among overgrown mounds, we found the unmistakable rubble of homes, bits of iron rebar, and even twisted metal bed frames with the rusted springs still visible.
Klum indeed.
Zochrot’s mission is to educate fellow Israelis about their history and the displacement of Palestinians who lived here before Israel made them refugees. Their work is challenging. Some prefer not to know. Others know, but prefer living in denial or apathy. Still others know very well, but zealously defend the destruction of Palestinian homes and lives out of Zionist ideology, whether political or theological.
This particular day, I was volunteering as a photographer in collaboration with Eitan on a Zochrot project to create a printed tour guidebook of former Palestinian villages in Israel, documenting their remaining traces. Other writers and photographers are visiting other villages.
Earlier the same day, in nearby Canada Park—also built upon the remains of demolished Palestinian villages—Eitan and I encountered three Israelis working for an organization that organizes historical tours for Jewish high school students. We were at a high point overlooking Mevo Horon and the Ayalon Valley, the separation barrier visible among the West Bank hills. They were discussing biblical references that they could use to connect the land to Jewish cultural heritage. (The Aijalon Valley is mentioned in the book of Joshua.)
Eitan speaks with Israeli educators in Canada Park overlooking the Ayalon Valley and the site of the demolished Palestinian village of Beit Nuba, now occupied by the Mevo Horon settlement.
Eitan asked them if they knew about Palestinian villages that were demolished here after the 1967 Six Day War: Beit Nuba, Yalu, and Immwas (the biblical Emmaus). No, they were completely unaware. As we discussed it later—exasperation evident in Eitan’s voice—those teaching history to Israel’s youth are ignorant of events from just 40 years ago. But he also told me of when he and his son were on a school trip with a similar group in this same area. In a side conversation, Eitan privately asked the tour guide if she knew about Palestinian villages there and she easily named all three without hesitating. Of course, she hadn’t included this information in her presentation to the students.
As a peacebuilding effort in response to these dynamics of destruction and denial, MCC supports a Zochrot project titled, “How Do We Say Nakba in Hebrew?” Nakba is Arabic for “catastrophe”—the word Palestinians use to describe their displacement in 1948 when Israel was established. The project developed a curriculum for use by schools and study groups so that more and more Israelis will be aware of their history and what the creation of their state has meant to their Palestinian neighbors. Just as other MCC partners educate Palestinians about the Holocaust, such mutual understanding is vital to a just peace.
More remains of the demolished Palestinian village of Beit Nuba.
MCC also supports Zochrot’s tours of places like Canada Park (see Rachelle Friesen’s post on a recent tour), and other sites of demolished Palestinian villages. These often include bringing original Palestinian residents to talk about their history and experiences as refugees. We’re planning to join an upcoming tour to the depopulated village of Lifta, scheduled to be turned into luxury housing units by Israeli developers.
Of course, North Americans should not consider these issues without drawing parallels to our own history of European displacement of indigenous peoples. It would be hypocritical to denounce the displacement of Palestinians without also humbly repenting for the crimes of our own history.
However, among the many differences between these counterpart histories, one is key: The further past a historical injustice becomes, the more difficult it is to rectify with integrity. While the descendents of indigenous North Americans rightly struggle against ongoing historical injustices, many of the original survivors—and perpetrators— of the Nakba are still alive today. Furthermore, the theft of Palestinian land continues in the expansion of settlements like Mevo Horon—where evidence of new construction is ubiquitous. Yet Israel and Palestine’s contemporary history-in-the-making is not irreversible. Israelis have the opportunity to recognize and stop these injustices mid-stream—reversing course before they become further entrenched. It’s not too late to do the right thing: to end the occupation; to stop settlements; to establish just borders; to grant justice to Palestinian refugees. Of course, compromise will be required by all sides, but recent revelations indicate that even the most painful Palestinian concessions have been rebuffed by Israeli leaders.
Would not a society which prides itself with being a moral beacon to the world desire to correct such wrongs while it can, rather than anchor itself among history’s sordid ranks of nations founded upon injustice? It’s not too late.
But the first step to recovery is truth-telling. Thanks to the efforts of partners like Zochrot, at least ignorance will no longer be an excuse.
To learn more, read MCC’s A Common Place magazine’s feature article on Zochrot, or Zochrot’s in-depth article about Canada Park.
