Our Experience on a Dual Narrative Tour in Jerusalem

Dual Narrative Tour in Jerusalem

“Who decided that Palestine deserved less than the rest?” 

The air was thick with tension as this question hung in the air. The eight of us gawked at the two men standing before us, their eyes fiery with passion and their backs taut with pride. We were standing along a back alley in the Muslim quarter of Old Town Jerusalem, the exact setting where one would expect fights to erupt and bullies to reign. All the elements of a good drama were in place – feuding families, age-old tensions, questions on authority and ownership. But this was no drama and these men were not actors following a script. It was, in a way, engineered tension without a dress rehearsal, the product of a dual narrative tour that we had chosen to embark on in a bid to better understand the complexity of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.

It was in fact the first time our protagonist and antagonist were paired together, with no clarity on who would take on the role of “good” or “bad” guy. Enter Shai, an experienced Israeli tour guide, and Malkon, an Armenian-Palestinian human rights scholar. Their task over the five hours we had together? To use the setting of the Old City as a backdrop to tease out some of the main threads of tension between these 2 communities.

I was in two minds about this. As someone who dabbles in quite a bit of facilitation at work, this was highly exciting. But as someone who knew next to nothing about the conflict, it was highly intense. 

Exploring the tensions

At first glance, the Old City would remind you of a typical European old city, with its quaint cobble-stoned streets, the usual smattering of significant religious sites, and overpriced tourist fare. But as we journeyed through the labyrinth of streets, with our guides pointing out the different quarters – Armenian, Palestinian, Christian, and Jewish – it was clear that the fragmentation between the different communities is real and highly evident.

Over the course of the tour, Shai and Malkon explored questions that were difficult to answer. Who owns this land? Who has the right to be here? Our guides presented perspectives that reflected the deep divisions on this issues. The Jewish believe that the land of Israel was promised to them and that this was their best shot at safety after years of persecution; the Palestinians claim that the Jewish occupation sanctioned by the UN proposal in 1947 led to their eviction from their homeland. They also believe that the British had no right to promise the Jews land and assign it to them when there were already Palestinians living there.

Our tour also brought us to the Temple Mount (also known as Harem esh-Sharif) and the Western Wall. These are generally considered to be highlights of any visit to Jerusalem, but what most guides fail to mention is how both of these sites continue to be contentious spaces for the various religions that inhabit the Old City. Apart from Mecca, the Al-aqsa Mosque at Harem esh-Sharif is considered the third holiest site for the Muslims. To the Jews, however, it is the holiest site because it is considered to be the foundation of Judaism and home to the convenants in the Bible. In spite of its religious significance, Jews are not allowed to pray at the Dome of the Rock because a prior treaty signed with Jordan dictates that only the Muslims are allowed to pray there. I saw for myself firsthand the presence of guards patrolling the area to stop any prayer-like activity for all non-Muslims. The guards take the enforcement of this arrangement seriously, as visitors who claim to be Muslims will have to cite verses from the Quran in order to enter the Dome of the Rock.

“What does it mean to be sovereign if we don’t even have the right to pray here?” – Shai

It is because of this that the Western Wall, also known as the Wailing Wall, holds special significance for the Jews because it is the closest wall to Temple Mount. Many consider the wall as epicenter for the Judaism faith, where Jews go to convey their deepest desires to God through prayers, song and more often than not, tears. The Israelis wanted to create a prayer plaza to allow the Jews to gather and pray, especially on Shabbat. Malkon shared with us that this very site used to house the Moroccan quarter, and its inhabitants were massacred to make space for the prayer plaza. Today, there is no trace that this was once their home.

“Let’s empty ourselves of our ethnic identities and understand the issue by pursuing justice.”

At one point in the tour, we stood on the rooftop of a building, surveying the panoramic views of the Dome of the Rock, the Mount of Olives, with the labyrinth of the Old City situated in between these immense religious monuments. That one vantage point encapsulated how rich and complex the identity of this land is. Our guides urged us to think about what makes a nation: are we an imagined community because of a shared cultural and historical identity? Who can claim to be indigenous – the recipients of a promised land, or the people who have actually physically lived there for centuries? Can national identity exist when the people in a country are fundamentally polarised? We learnt that the Palestinian identity grew as a response to the Zionist movement, and noted the contrast between Israel’s acceptance by the international community and how the Palestinians are denied of their right to self-determination. The Palestinians remained as an identifiable community that is deprived of sovereignty, airport, currency, passport and the freedom of movement. Yet the Israelis are not having it easy either, with the neighbouring Arab states deemed as mortal threats as it attempts to navigate its survival in an inhospitable region. How far can Israel’s economic successes, military superiority and friendship with major powers ensure its survival in today’s volatile and unpredictable world? What role does Israel hold in this region – guests, neighbours, enemies or friends?

Holding the space for dialogue

“If Israel puts its weapons down, Israel is gone. There’s a lot of emotion here which makes it not as kumbaya as you think. Just look at what happened in Gaza.” – comment from one of the participants on the tour.

What made the tour all the more riveting was the fact that the guides had to juggle their contrasting views with the diverse perspectives that came from the tour participants as well. Our group had several Jewish participants who were clearly a lot more informed and had specific views on the conflict, which resulted in many probing questions, especially to Malkon. This inevitably led to several moments of high tension that were impressively well-managed by our guides as they held the space for these questions and opinions to surface without being defensive.

Dual narratives, and more

I consider it extremely brave that MEJDI is running tours like that, because it takes so much courage and strength to talk about these issues in a country where the consequences of fractured politics are still very much part of the people’s lived reality. This dual narrative tour is a breath of fresh air for anyone who wishes to better understand Israel better, because it allows for a shared platform where multiple points of view – even if completely contradictory – can exist in the same safe space. In this day and age of divisive identity politics, how rare is that?

While the road to peace in Israel might still be a long one, conversations like this give me hope. At the end of the tour, Malkon and Shai exchanged a hug, thanked each other for exhibiting candor and courage in conversing about the conflict, and acknowledged that the common end goal is peace and honour. And I couldn’t help but think that if conversations like that were multiplied across the country – hell, across the world – it would look and feel beautifully different.