Apologies to all my followers for the recent blog drought. I'm sure the nervous anticipation has been terribly bothersome for you both. To make up for the dry patch this is a bumper post, consisting of two parts, covering my travels to some new parts in the last couple of weeks. Its a bit long but there are plenty of photos. (As usual, click to enlarge)
Part 1 - Plastic Peace
A fortnight ago I attended a summer camp in Acre, a small town on the northern Israeli coast. The camp was interesting for a number of reasons. Firstly, it was organised by a group of volunteers from across the United States committed to promoting peace in this region. Secondly, it was attended by children and coaches from three distinct communities - Jewish Israelis, Palestinian Israelis and Palestinians living in the West Bank. Finally, and no prizes for seeing this coming, the Camp was centred around the sport of Ultimate Frisbee.
You could be forgiven, given my sporting, academic and professional background, for thinking that a project using frisbee to promote peace between Israeli and Palestinian kids would be right up my street. However throughout my time at the Camp I could not shake a nagging sense of ambivalence. Don't get me wrong - I think all kids should get the chance to play frisbee. Its the most fun and inclusive sport I've ever played, and I've played a lot. Moreover the self-refereeing aspect of the sport encourages the specific conflict-resolution scenarios that peacebuilding projects attempt to recreate.
However, although the organisers could not be faulted in how well the camp was run, questions remain over how appropriate it is normalise relations between parties in a conflict in which there exists a dramatic power imbalance. You may think it a stretch to equate a kids frisbee camp with normalisation, but any project which lists peace as one of its objectives cannot ignore the political context. They cannot ignore the occupation.
All this left me feeling more a little torn during the Camp. There I was - surrounded by kids; the vast majority of which appearing to be having the time of their lives; some of whom I had taught to throw just a few weeks before; playing the sport that I love; wondering whether it was actually doing more harm than good. I could not escape the feeling that all this was doing, was merely 'putting a smiley face on the occupation' (a phrase borrowed from a friend).
This feeling of doubt and uncertainty pervades every aspect of the lives of the people who live here, foreigners and locals alike. Every action or reaction is analysed and re-analysed through a murky prism distinct to each individual or media outlet. Personally, the surest sign of this effect is that even frisbee, previously an absolute in my life, has become a point of contention, subject to doubt and ambivalence.
Part 2 - Going for Golan
Another place packed with enough contradictions to make your head spin is the Occupied Syrian Golan, a beautiful mountainous area along the border with Syria, occupied by Israel since 1967. I spent a very enjoyable few days up there last weekend marvelling at the scenery and gorging on the local cuisine.
Technically, as occupied territory, the Golan exists within a permanent inter-state conflict. This is easily forgotten, though, when you experience the tranquillity of it mountains, lakes and orchards. The only reminder is the UN-patrolled border running literally a stone's throw from your dinner table (where I spent most of the trip).
I was tempted to test the whole stone's throw expression in the hope that the projectile would be instantly obliterated by some kind of laser-based defensive shield. Unfortunately I could barely raise my arms after the meaty feast I myself had just demolished. Although, after seeing the futuristic listening stations on top of Mount Hermon (see picture below) perhaps that was just as well.
Majdal Shams, the largest Arab town in the Golan and our base for the visit, is part European-style ski resort and part traditional Druze village. The Golan attract thousands of Israeli tourists - skiers in the winter and mountain bikers and hikers in the summer. The area has also attracted thousands of Jewish settlers who live in very modern towns scattered amongst the hills. Economically the Golan is now inextricably linked to Israel and the Syrian Arab population depend absolutely on the same settlers who have colonised their land.
The phrase 'identity crisis' is as applicable to the people as to the land. Of the 10% of the Syrian population who remained after the 1967 purges, the majority belong to the Islamic Druze sect. It is the policy of the Israel government to undermine any claim to Syrian identity and replace it with a fabricated Israeli Druze nationalism. The Golani people's last stand against this colonialism is the almost wholesale rejection of Israeli citizenship. This means that they do not have passports and if they wish to travel overseas then they must carry a document declaring that they are a person of 'undefined nationality'.
With this knowledge you can understand the prominence of the slightly silly Jebediah Springfield-esque statue of Sultan El-Atrash, the Druze hero who was the leader of the 1925 revolt against the French (pic below), which has pride of place in Majdal Shams. It certainly leaves you wondering where their next hero is going to come from and indeed what it will say on his or her passport.
Part 1 - Plastic Peace
A fortnight ago I attended a summer camp in Acre, a small town on the northern Israeli coast. The camp was interesting for a number of reasons. Firstly, it was organised by a group of volunteers from across the United States committed to promoting peace in this region. Secondly, it was attended by children and coaches from three distinct communities - Jewish Israelis, Palestinian Israelis and Palestinians living in the West Bank. Finally, and no prizes for seeing this coming, the Camp was centred around the sport of Ultimate Frisbee.
You could be forgiven, given my sporting, academic and professional background, for thinking that a project using frisbee to promote peace between Israeli and Palestinian kids would be right up my street. However throughout my time at the Camp I could not shake a nagging sense of ambivalence. Don't get me wrong - I think all kids should get the chance to play frisbee. Its the most fun and inclusive sport I've ever played, and I've played a lot. Moreover the self-refereeing aspect of the sport encourages the specific conflict-resolution scenarios that peacebuilding projects attempt to recreate.
However, although the organisers could not be faulted in how well the camp was run, questions remain over how appropriate it is normalise relations between parties in a conflict in which there exists a dramatic power imbalance. You may think it a stretch to equate a kids frisbee camp with normalisation, but any project which lists peace as one of its objectives cannot ignore the political context. They cannot ignore the occupation.
All this left me feeling more a little torn during the Camp. There I was - surrounded by kids; the vast majority of which appearing to be having the time of their lives; some of whom I had taught to throw just a few weeks before; playing the sport that I love; wondering whether it was actually doing more harm than good. I could not escape the feeling that all this was doing, was merely 'putting a smiley face on the occupation' (a phrase borrowed from a friend).
This feeling of doubt and uncertainty pervades every aspect of the lives of the people who live here, foreigners and locals alike. Every action or reaction is analysed and re-analysed through a murky prism distinct to each individual or media outlet. Personally, the surest sign of this effect is that even frisbee, previously an absolute in my life, has become a point of contention, subject to doubt and ambivalence.
Part 2 - Going for Golan
Another place packed with enough contradictions to make your head spin is the Occupied Syrian Golan, a beautiful mountainous area along the border with Syria, occupied by Israel since 1967. I spent a very enjoyable few days up there last weekend marvelling at the scenery and gorging on the local cuisine.
Technically, as occupied territory, the Golan exists within a permanent inter-state conflict. This is easily forgotten, though, when you experience the tranquillity of it mountains, lakes and orchards. The only reminder is the UN-patrolled border running literally a stone's throw from your dinner table (where I spent most of the trip).
I was tempted to test the whole stone's throw expression in the hope that the projectile would be instantly obliterated by some kind of laser-based defensive shield. Unfortunately I could barely raise my arms after the meaty feast I myself had just demolished. Although, after seeing the futuristic listening stations on top of Mount Hermon (see picture below) perhaps that was just as well.
Majdal Shams, the largest Arab town in the Golan and our base for the visit, is part European-style ski resort and part traditional Druze village. The Golan attract thousands of Israeli tourists - skiers in the winter and mountain bikers and hikers in the summer. The area has also attracted thousands of Jewish settlers who live in very modern towns scattered amongst the hills. Economically the Golan is now inextricably linked to Israel and the Syrian Arab population depend absolutely on the same settlers who have colonised their land.
The phrase 'identity crisis' is as applicable to the people as to the land. Of the 10% of the Syrian population who remained after the 1967 purges, the majority belong to the Islamic Druze sect. It is the policy of the Israel government to undermine any claim to Syrian identity and replace it with a fabricated Israeli Druze nationalism. The Golani people's last stand against this colonialism is the almost wholesale rejection of Israeli citizenship. This means that they do not have passports and if they wish to travel overseas then they must carry a document declaring that they are a person of 'undefined nationality'.
With this knowledge you can understand the prominence of the slightly silly Jebediah Springfield-esque statue of Sultan El-Atrash, the Druze hero who was the leader of the 1925 revolt against the French (pic below), which has pride of place in Majdal Shams. It certainly leaves you wondering where their next hero is going to come from and indeed what it will say on his or her passport.
