Dateline: Jerusalem, 2015
Giving Roses to Palestinians in the Old City on “Jerusalem Day” (Yom Yerushalayim)
By Jeremy D. Sher
I found out about the rose giveaway on Facebook. We were to meet at Safra Square by Jerusalem City Hall, just outside the Old City, at 6:00 pm. The idea was to give roses to Arab shopkeepers in Jerusalem’s Old City before the Jerusalem Day parade. This simple act was organized by Tag Meir (“ray of illumination”), the Israeli peace group formed in response to the murderous “tag mahir” (“price tag”) attacks made by Jewish settlers against Palestinians. In the face of Jewish “price tag” attacks gleefully escalating conflict, Tag Meir formed to shine a ray of light into the darkness of self-delusion among Jews who perpetrate violence, and into the despair of the rest of the country looking on in horror. The “price tag” murderers may claim to represent the Jewish people, but groups like Tag Meir stand for the Judaism the rest of us know, the Judaism that values joy, peace, and justice for minorities. One would think that a parade of Israeli flags would be a joyous, optimistic event. But recently the Jerusalem Day parade has become a symbol of racism. I didn’t know how large a role everyday racism plays in Israeli culture until I arrived here and observed it, but Jerusalem Day has become a particular flashpoint. Celebrating Israel’s victory in the 1967 war, in which Israel conquered the Old City and the occupied territories, Jerusalem Day now attracts groups of far-right, triumphalist settlers who parade through the Muslim Quarter shouting horrific things like “Death to Arabs.” Past marches have seen property damage and violence. Nobody knew what would happen at the parade this year, but recent history was concerning. If I were to participate in any form of direct peace action today, giving out roses seemed like an innocuous choice. With some trepidation, I arrived at the square as shadows lengthened against the blazing afternoon. I didn’t see anyone handing out flowers, but I did see a left-wing rally on the steps of City Hall, surrounded by a police barricade. Some of their signs supported the leftist Meretz Party, while many others read things like “Jerusalem Will Not Be Silent in the Face of Racism.” In the plaza where I was standing, people, mostly men, were jumping in circles with large Israeli flags. Some were verbally confronting the left-wing demonstrators. I debated: should I join the left-wing group? They could use another body up there, and the police appeared to be letting people through individually. But partly from chickening out and partly from feeling that was not the group I signed up for, I decided to look around a little more. I walked around back of City Hall. A stage was set up for a large concert, but nobody was in the seats. A woman stood alone with a white flag featuring a red heart. I wondered if she was part of Tag Meir, but I chickened out of talking to her. Turning the corner and walking along Yafo St., I came upon a small green park dedicated to Yitzhak Rabin. Here was the picture-book Israel: birds chirping, girls lounging on the sunny grass reading books, lovers sitting on a bench. One might not have known from this scene that a hundred meters away was a raucous battle of voices. That’s Jerusalem: a city of secrets, with entire worlds hidden around a corner or behind an unmarked door.