This past weekend we had the opportunity to accompany MCC partner Zochrot on a visit to a village that had been destroyed in 1948. We’ve written about Zochrot in the past on the MCC blog.

This village was called ‘Kfar Inan’ and was located in what today is part of Israel proper (on the Israeli side of the Green Line). Zochrot was able to find our guide for the visit, Abu Marwan, when one of their employees was visiting the destroyed village and was taking pictures. Abu Marwan approached her and asked, “Do you know where you’re standing?” “No,” she replied. “In my house!”

Abu Marwan was delighted when Zochrot asked him if he would guide our group around his old village. He remembered everything as it was and told the story of how all the homes in village had tied white flags to their doors and windows because they hadn’t wanted to be part of the war in 1948. Initially the army passed by their village, but then the army returned and told everyone they had to leave and could come back in a few days; when they came back they found the buildings and homes destroyed.

He and his family live about 15 kilometers/10 miles away. He remembers the village so well that he even hand drew a map of where all the homes and buildings were before the village was destroyed! It was touching when he explained that he still visits the village at least twice a week just to walk through the stones and remember what it was like. He was 14 years old when Kfar Inan was destroyed.

I wonder what kind of pain he must carry with him that he still visits these old stones regularly. What hope sustains him? That the residents of the village will one day come back and start anew? Is the remembering what drives him? Seeing what he knows to be the home of an old friend, or the bakery, or the pool where he used to swim? I’m not sure but I like to think that as he led a group of Israelis, Palestinians, and internationals around what used to be his village that his pain was perhaps slightly lessened and his hope fed just a little bit. I think peace comes in small steps: as we remember a village, as we meet a person, as we hear a story. I hope that some small part of Abu Marwan was restored as he led us through his home of 60 years ago and that his future visits to the village have less pain and more hope.


Cactus with the remains of one of Kfar Inan's buildings in the background. Palestinian villages would use cacti as a kind of fence, and seeing cacti growing like this often indicates that one can find the remains of a village nearby.



Abu Marwan standing on the corner of a home as he tells us about the history of Kfar Inan.

Posting a Zochrot sign, indicating the name of the village, 'Kfar Inan', in Arabic, Hebrew, and English.
Abu Marwan and his wife.

A boy was wearing this shirt, which his mother said he was wearing by chance: History never looks like history when you are living through it.

The view from the remains of Kfar Inan.

How do you say 'Nakba' in Hebrew?

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MCC partner Zochrot recently had an exhibition highlighting the erasure of the Arabic language from Israeli society. Hebrew, which is spoken throughout Israel, and Arabic, which is spoken by Palestinians in the West Bank and Gaza, have many similarities linguistically. Zochrot’s exhibition consisted of putting up words in Arabic with both their transliteration and their Hebrew equivalent throughout a popular shopping area.

This is significant because it exposed Israelis to some of the similarities they perhaps weren’t familiar with. In addition to the linguistic connection, Zochrot emphasized the history of 1948 and what Israelis refer to as their Independence Day and Palestinians refer to as ‘al Nakba’, or ‘the Catastrophe’.

There were pictures with explanations in both Hebrew and Arabic about certain events; for example, immediately following the war, a Jewish shop owner moved in and changed this formerly Palestinian flower shop into a Jewish store. You can see ‘Jasmin Flowers’ written on the store sign in English, and on the left side of the picture, in Hebrew, the words ‘Jewish store’. Zochrot uses pictures and stories such as these to highlight the connection between what was a disaster for the Palestinians and what the Israelis see as a day of celebration.

In Israeli society questioning Independence Day is extremely threatening; to Israelis, it feels as if one is questioning the existence of the Jewish state. The term ‘Nakba’ is almost never heard, and if it is, it comes with negative connotations. That is why the following moment was so significant.

Because the exhibit was spread throughout a shopping area there were people who had come specifically for the exhibit as well as people who had happened to come shopping on this particular day. One such family was passing by when a small boy of maybe 5 years old turned to his father:

Dad, do you know how to say ‘catastrophe’ in Arabic? ‘Nakba’.

Here was a young boy being exposed to the idea of the Nakba at a young age, and without being told that the word itself was dirty or a threat to his existence. He saw the pictures around him, and even if he didn’t understand everything that was being explained, he was exposed to what is considered a dangerous idea in Israeli society in a safe, comfortable, mundane environment.

Will that boy grow up to understand the connection between the founding of the state of Israel and the pain of the Palestinian people? Will he see the Nakba as a threat to his existence or an expression of another people’s grief? These are questions that we aren’t able to answer now and will probably never know the answer to, but we know that if MCC partners like Zochrot weren’t doing the hard work of preparing the ground for peace we’d find it more difficult to hold out hope that one day the peoples of this region will live in peace.

'Nakba' in Arabic with its transliteration in Hebrew as well as its translation, 'ason'.

Different Perspectives

This article, from the New York Times, discusses Israeli settlements in the West Bank. One of the settlements highlighted, Beitar Illit, is not too far from Bethlehem. It's a large city and is made up of mostly ultra-orthodox Jews. Ultra-orthodox Jews are Jews who are strictly observant in following their interpretation of Jewish law. There are also segments of ultra-orthodox society that do not support the modern state of Israel, arguing that only when the Messiah comes and establishes his kingdom will a state such as modern Israel be valid.

The residents of Beitar Illit and Modiin Illit, its sister city, represent one side of the settler population. They generally tend to move to these cities because housing is cheap and affordable and the neighborhoods safe and quiet. Often these types of settlers are referred to as 'quality of life' settlers; they aren't specifically moving somewhere based on a certain ideology, but rather because of ease of life or other similar circumstances. Their main goal isn't to push out non-Jews.

This article, from Haaretz, an Israeli newspaper, discusses the other type of settler, 'ideological settlers'. These are people who choose to live in a place based on the fact that they believe God has given a certain piece of territory exclusively to Jews, and that the territory is more important than any non-Jew living on it. The article points out how the Israeli army, which is largely supposed to be responsible for law and order in the West Bank (excluding areas controlled by the Palestinian Authority, which are few and far between), allows Israeli citizens to begin construction and erect buildings in places they know are likely to cause conflict.

Each perspective is correct: there are 'settlers' who would willingly leave the West Bank provided they had adequate compensation and new housing to move to, and there are 'settlers' who wouldn't leave regardless of the compensation offered and would even fight the Israeli government should the state of Israel decide to leave the West Bank. This is just one of the many issues that can be interpreted different ways. Some settlers are willing to leave and live in peace, other settlers are determined to remain on the land regardless of the consequences or cost. In our work here we try to continue to find the courage to challenge the latter and the grace to encourage the former.