EVEN TO ME, a Muslim educated at a convent, Christianity's most enduring and endearing image is that of the infant Jesus in his lowly manger, and that is what I saw when I first visited the Church of the Nativity in Bethlehem. And yet, how many of those who yearly celebrate this town have seen it as it is today? If they were to, they might be shocked to discover that this place of legend is dying, killed by Israeli occupation and world neglect. If nothing is done, and soon, the Bethlehem they celebrate each year will be no more than a folk memory.
Last month, I decided to see it for myself. I had heard alarming news of its depredations, which no one seemed able to prevent, least of all the international community which did nothing. Where are the Christians, people agonized, the Churches, the Pope? Don't they know or don't they care? Reaching Bethlehem from Ramallah, where I currently live, used to be a simple car journey of no more than 30 minutes. People often went there for the restaurants and to enjoy Bethlehem's special atmosphere. Today, to visit Bethlehem from the West Bank requires a permit to cross Jerusalem, Since it would be easier for the proverbial camel to pass though the eye of a needle than for a West Banker to enter Jerusalem, this first stage of the journey makes the second virtually impossible. So people go byway of Wadi al-Nar, a circuitous and dangerous hilly route which takes three hours and bypasses the Israeli checkpoints blocking every Palestinian town. Nevertheless, the risk of being caught at a "temporary" checkpoint, one which Israelis erect at will, remains.
As a foreign passport holder, my journey was easier. Even so, I had first to reach Jerusalem
through the notorious Qalandia checkpoint at the exit from Ramallah. Few cars are licensed to cross here and so people have to walk to the other side. This is a hazardous route - not long before, on a previous visit, I had caught my foot in a pothole and broken it. At Jerusalem, I had to find a taxi licensed to cross the Bethlehem checkpoint into the town, since Israeli cars are barred from entering Palestinian areas. A formidable 26-foot-high concrete wall confronts the visitor at the town entrance. Its sinister, slate-grey facade and massive cylindrical watch-towers were truly awesome. This barrier will soon encircle Bethlehem on all its sides but one. It will be 30 miles long and confiscate more than 17,500 acres of Bethlehem's best agricultural land. Two gates for people and one for commercial traffic, all controlled by the Israeli army, will be the only access. People cannot leave without a permit, granted only for compelling reasons and revocable at any time. The wall's completion will seal the prison that is already Bethlehem.
Nine Jewish settlements, housing more settlers than all of Bethlehem and its neighborhoods, encircle the city like a second wall. To the west is Har Homa, a colony that until 2000 was an ancient, densely wooded hill called Jabal Abu Ghneim. Israel uprooted the trees and replaced them with a colony of dreary, box-like houses. To the north, Rachel's tomb, Bethlehem's historical landmark on the main Jerusalem-to-Bethlehem road and an area traditionally buzzing with shops and restaurants, is now blocked off by the wall and reserved exclusively for Jews. Muslim worshippers who venerated the tomb (and built it) cannot go there. Most businesses have closed, and, as the noose tightens around Bethlehem, more are closing. Tourism has been devastated. The monthly average of 92,000 visitors in 2000 has fallen to 7,000; of the 2,000 monthly tourist buses, only 11 now enter; 28 hotels, 240 souvenir shops and 50 restaurants have closed. The once charming place is a ghost town. Standing in a quiet Manger Square, I could not believe that in 2000 I had seen this deserted place festooned with (lags and teeming with people awaiting the Pope's arrival. What would he say, I wondered, were he here now?
Traditionally, Bethlehem, with its villages of Beit Jala and Ben Sahour, was Palestine's most Christian city; its population in 1997 was evenly divided between Christians and Muslims. It had 22 churches and 11 mosques. There have been tensions between the two communities and sporadic reports that Christian-owned businesses and Christians generally have been harassed by local security forces. Last week, the Holy See's permanent observer to the United Nations, Archbishop Celestino Migliore, said Christians in the Holy Land had become the targets of extremists. "Religious extremism of any kind, implicated in attacks, abuse and harassment of Christians in the area around Bethlehem recently, is not to be tolerated," he said.
Even so, I still awoke to the clamor of church bells, charming but unfamiliar in a largely Muslim country. Because Bethlehem houses the famous Church of the Nativity and represents the cradle of Christianity, it has been a natural place of pilgrimage for Christians worldwide. Tourism was a major economic source, but as this declines, people are emigrating. Since the start of the intifada, one-tenth of Bethlehem's Christians have left for other countries. This is a loss for Palestine's skilled and entrepreneurial sector, and will decimate capital investment in the area. More importantly, it is a blow for the town's religious diversity, which, if unchecked, will threaten the continuity of a long Palestinian tradition of pluralism and religious co-existence. The late, much maligned Yasser Arafat, keenly conscious of this, always insisted on appointing Christian ministers and celebrating Christmas in Bethlehem.
In this hopeless picture, I discovered a group of Bethlehemites not content to abandon hope for their city. They have set up an ambitious campaign called "Open Bethlehem", which will return the issue to the world's attention Coordinated with Bethlehem's municipality, university and the Palestinian Authority, it strives to engage international help to save a city which surely is unique. The campaign was launched in London and Washington, DC this week. But it is not just the natives of Bethlehem who must revive its fortunes; in 2004, the Vatican called on Christians worldwide to visit Bethlehem and tourism revived briefly. Laudable, but it is not only for Catholics to care. The apathy that afflicts the international community over Bethlehem is as disheartening as that so scandalously displayed over its greater sister, Jerusalem. This priceless human heritage, just as crucial to Christianity (and also to Islam), was likewise abandoned to its fate. Today it is a sad, mutilated place of conflict, its historic religious diversity--even greater than Bethlehem's--unraveling and both are paradigms for the assault on what is left of Palestine. It is tempting to give up hope at this point, but as an incurable optimist who sees a duality in human nature, at once destructive and moral, I must believe that morality and justice will ultimately triumph.
Ghada Karmi
