Tent of Nations

نحن نرفض ان نكون اعداء
We refuse to be enemies.
Wir weigern uns Feinde zu sein.

Bzzzzzzzzz. Swat. Bzzzzzz. As I tossed and turned, battling the mosquito that refused to take refuge with any of the other inhabitants of the cave I was sleeping in, I contemplated my day and the hotly contested ground on which I slept. We had arrived at the Tent of Nations earlier that afternoon, and were greeted by a stone that read "We refuse to be enemies" in three languages. I didn't have to ask Daher, our kind Palestinian guide who was born and raised on this land, who this message was meant for. Already I could see two Israeli settlements below us, and I would soon discover two others visible on the horizon. Later, Daher's brother Daoud would tell us more about their experience dealing with the Israeli government and their land being attacked by settlers, but for now Daher gave us a tour of his family's land. The land that he had grown up on and that he worked day in and day out to maintain. The land that is slowly being surrounded by settlements and cut off from the world around.

A 100 acre stretch of land situated on a hilltop and located amidst the rolling hills between Beit Jala and Hebron, The Tent of Nations is owned by the Nassar family, who now work tirelessly just to preserve their rightful ownership. They have been denied water, electricity and building permits by the Israeli government, but this has only strengthened their resolve to keep their land and share their story. Their innovation in the face of such oppression is remarkable. Denied building permits, they dig caves. Denied electricity, they bring generators and now solar power. Denied water, they dig cisterns.

Despite its name, there is no gigantic tent engulfing the property. Rather, I think the name is meant to symbolize a space where Palestinians, Israelis and internationals can gather together to learn about each other and their ties to this land. Each spring people come to the Tent of Nations to help plant a new batch of olive trees, literally embodying the "grassroots resistance" to the occupation that the Nassar family is working to promote. Each tree they plant is an act of defiance against the occupation - a clear symbol that they refuse to continue the downward spiral of destruction and despair this conflict can bring.

As the sun went down, I watched as the settlements around us slowly lit up the night sky. Perhaps these settlers are unaware of their neighbors on the nearby hill who have no access to electricity and water. Daoud told us a story of an Israeli peace activist who brought a friend from a nearby settlement to visit. The settler was shocked that the Nassar family does not have water - her settlement has a swimming pool.

Bzzzzzzzz. Swat. Bzzzzzzzzz. Swat. My hair still smelled smoky as I continued my futile attempts to get rid of the mosquito. After dinner, we had gathered around a campfire and sung songs from around the world. We were joined not only by Daher and his sister, but a group of young people traveling with Oxfam International. They were from all over the world and were brought together by their commitment to justice. As the fire crackled on the dry desert brush, we learned greetings from Japan, Malawi, Australia and the Muscogee Nation (Native American). Sitting around a campfire with a group of young people committed to working for justice and a man like Daher, who works for justice day in and day out, was a very hopeful experience. For awhile, I became completely absorbed in the joy shared by those sitting around the circle and forgot that we were sitting on land that the Israeli government is threatening to confiscate.

Bzzzzzzzz. Swat. Bzzzzzzzzz. Swat.

I never did seem to be able to rid myself of that pesky mosquito, but it was not just the mosquito that got to me that night. The spirit of non-violent, peaceful resistance in the face of such blatant oppression and discrimination found its way under my skin and has continued to be in my mind. Though at times I can become cynical and upset by the constant presence of oppression and discrimination, it is important to remember the work of people like the Nassars. These people refuse to give into cynicism and refuse to contribute to the cycle of violence. It is a remarkable story and a remarkable place.

If you are in Iowa City, I highly recommend you take the opportunity to hear Daoud Nassar speak on November 4th at the public library. More information can be found on the Press Citizen's website.More photos of the experience can be found in my snapshots of october facebook album.
Campfire photo credit: Bethany Sack (fellow YAGM)