 |
 |
 |
'Peace
tent" arrives
in Willits Saturday
By
Claudia Reed,
Staff Writer
"Why do we light
candles?" asked the
young Isreali Jew.
"Because when you can
see each other's faces you
can make peace."
A
response came in Arabic:
"When I was born, I
did not know I was Moslem.
When you were born, you
did not know you were a
Jew. When we die, God will
not ask what is your religion.
He will ask what you did."
The
two were among about 80
Israeli Jews and Palestinian
Arabs gathered for a sulcha
(pronounced "sool ha"
with a guttural "h")
in Northern Israel during
the Chanuka/Ramadan/ Christmas
season of 2001.
"Sulcha.
It's Arabic. It means reconciliation.
It's an old tradition,"
explained Dorit Bat-Shalom,
one of the event organizers,
who now lives in Willits.
Last
year, Bat-Shalom, whose
name means "Daughter
of Peace" in Hebrew,
turned an Israeli retreat
center into the traditional
peace tent in which a sulcha
takes place. The concept
dates from the time when
warring groups within the
Arab world would meet to
negotiate peace in a tent
erected on neutral ground.
Now that Bat-Shalom lives
in Willits, she'll be creating
a peace tent inside Hava
Java cafe during the first
ten days of February, the
start of the four month
"Season for Nonviolence".
"The
concept is to meet in a
tent beyond right or wrong,"
she said. "The idea
is not to judge. It's a
place where we meet as wounded
people who are freaking
out.Nobody knows the depth
of the pain and the fear,
on both sides. It's about
reconciliation and forgiveness."
The
images hanging
on a clothsline inside the
tent speak of the unspeakable.
An
artist with an international
reputation, Bat-Shalom has
produced monoprints containing
photographs of
The images are on a clothesline, she says, because the pain and the rage must be washed from the soul.
Participants in the Israeli sulcha would "sit together and hear how much each one is hurt and go to the next phase," she said. "If we still hold fear and revenge we are lost."
Participants in Willits will each hold one of the paintings and share a story or poem or other offering that comes from the heart in the opening event that begins at 5 pm Feb.1. Inspiration may well come from other art works, as well, including Valarie James' lifesize bodycast figures of women literally "up against the wall"in their grief. The event will include a video of the sulcha that took place close to the border between Israel and the West Bank.
On Feb. 6, visitors to the peace tent will be guided in creating images of their own.
Only women will participate in "Behind the Veil," an event beginning at 6 pm on Feb 2. Each will wear a veil like that of women in many parts of the Muslim world. Each will then unveil her face to reveal her story. The ceremony reflects Bat-Shalom's second Israeli sulcha, a woman-only event that took place in :The Tent of Sarah and Hagar."
The names represent the two women with whom the Biblical Abraham had a child. According to the Torah of the Jews (which corresponds roughly to the Christian Old Testament) Hagar, mother of Ishmael, was the servant, And Sarah, mother of Issac, was the wife. The Koran tells the story in reverse.
Both scriptures agree, however, that Ishmael is the father of the Arab peoples, and Issac the father of the Jews.
" Some people say we are cousins," a Palestinian man tells a Jew in the video of last year's sulcha, "I say we are brothers."
Not everyone has made the connection.
"We try to see where we separated, the core of the conflict," said Bat-Shalom. "It is the archetype of our conflict. The knot starts there."
"It's all a reaction to a reaction,"said Bat-Shalom. If we as (Jewish and Muslem) women would unite, we're going to stop this horrific situation"
Bat-Shalom does not refer to horror lightly. Her father arrived in what was then Palestine from Germany just before Hitler closed the border to Jews trying to escape. Her kindergarten teacher arrived later - with a death campidentification number tattooed on her arm.
Bat-Shalom's mother's people, who have lived in the holy Land for seven generations, spoke Arabic ands had many Arab friends. The friendships, however, didn't prevent her brother being killed in the Six Day War. Bat-Shalom, then 13, became obcessed with the idea of meeting the Arab who had killed him and asking. "Why?'
At 19, Bat-Shalom, like nearly all Israeli women of the same age, served in the Israeli Defense Force. During the Yom Kippur War of 1973, it was her job to find the family members of those who had been killed in battle and tell them their son, daughter, father, mother, sister, or brother was dead.
" I would stop an Army car in front of a house and the whole street holds its breath, 'Who is it now?' It's how we live."
Years later Bat-Shalom heard about two Palestinian boys, who had wired themselves together to explode as human bombs, shot dead by an Israeli soldier before they could throw the switch. Her own memories filled in the gaps, allowing her to imagine the details:
"Thr 19 year old soldier standing there, shaking like hell. His life changed today after he shot this kid. It's a wound that will never heal."
But healing is Bat-Shalom's intention.
"Both of us, we and them, are so scared and terrified and traumatized that the only way we can go anywhere is to stop and cry and cry and cry and cry and forgive each other and create a new paradigm of co-existance."
"Shalom."