My Jewish-American friend Dave and I lay next to several members of Hamas in a village outside the West Bank town of Tulkarm. We weren’t hostages or political prisoners; we were guests at a tea party turned slumber party and our bed buddies happened to be members of Hamas.
Our host had wheeled a television into the sitting room where we’d set up sleeping mats and blankets. A low-budget, American thriller glowed in the background as everyone chatted and watched TV during a lull. On TV an American woman had seduced some important figure on his private yacht and while he wasn’t looking she poisoned his drink. I whispered to the Hamas member next to me, “In America our women are beautiful, but dangerous.” He laughed and gave me a high-five.
Dave’s friend Mohamed invited the two of us to visit his hometown outside Tulkarm in the Northwest corner of the West Bank. We arrived in Tulkarm and wandered the city before meeting with Mohamed. An isolated city without any biblical or historic sites, few tourists or business people visit Tulkarm. Hamas flags and posters remembering the martyrs, Palestinians who died fighting Israel hang on almost every building.
Most of the locals were curious and confused to see two Americans strolling through their town. A fruit vender stopped us, gave us each an apple, and asked us how he could get a visa to America. A man who sold underwear pointed to a bra and asked us what the word for it was in English. A general store owner invited Dave and I to have tea with him. We met Mohamed and a group of his friends, and they took us on a brief walking tour of Tulkarm before we took a service taxi to Kaffina, their village.
Mohamed’s mother served us several rounds of tea and prepared fish for dinner. We chatted about mobile phones, digital cameras, and an ornamental boat Mohamed’s brother made during the time he spent in prison for his involvement with Hamas. On the door to the sitting room the family had pasted a picture of Shiekh Yassin and Rantisi, leaders of Hamas who were assassinated by the Israelis in the spring of 2004. Several of Mohamed’s friends also had pictures of Yassin and Rantisi, along with other Hamas paraphernalia on their notebooks.
After dinner, Mohamed and his friends showed us around Kaffina. While few foreigners venture out to Tulkarm, even less make it to Kaffina. Children ran along beside us, introducing themselves and asking for our names. Adults stopped to talk with us and invited us back to their houses.
A group of locals surrounded Dave and I in a convenience store owned by Mohamed’s uncle. They wanted to practice their English, so they went around the room introducing themselves to us and telling us about their jobs and interest in English. A member from the Al-Aqsa Martyr Brigade popped into the crowd, smiled at everyone, shook hands with Dave and me, and dropped off some flyers. The group glanced at the Al-Aqsa Martyr Brigade flyer, balled it up, threw it in the trash, and didn’t bother showing it to Dave or me. Most of them were members of Hamas, so perhaps they weren’t interested in the Al-Aqsa Martyr Brigade’s newest statement.
Soon we were hopping from tea party to tea party at various homes. Along the way Mohamed pointed out two houses that belonged to his uncle that the Israelis had destroyed. They accused him of helping suicide bombers enter Israel. His uncle is currently serving a life sentence and his nineteen children live elsewhere. A close friend of Mohamed’s family lives next to the remains of one of the demolished houses, so we had an evening on their patio.
The patron of the house asked for my thoughts on Islam. I told him that while Islam generally seemed to be a peaceful religion that helped people live good lives, I was disappointed in how little Islam had reformed. I blamed this lack of development on Islam’s insistence that the Qur’an was the literal word of God. I argued that because Mohamed the Prophet was illiterate and the Qur’an wasn’t actually written down until nearly thirty years after his death, perhaps human error might have distorted the message. This would be akin to telling a Catholic that Mary really lied about the Immaculate Conception.
The members of Hamas, the fundamentalist Islamic group, seriously listened to my argument. They didn’t agree, but they respected my opinion. No one got offended or threatened me. It was just a conversation about religion.
At the next tea party, the patron showed Dave and I how he’d turned the ground floor of his house into a miniature farm with sheep and chickens. After a brief tea party at the neighbor’s house, we returned to the farmhouse, set up the slumber area for Dave, me, and the five or six members of Hamas.
Before bed the patron’s wife prepared a spread of eggs, fried potatoes, cheese, and chopped vegetables for everyone. She laid it out for us, while everyone was at the neighbor’s house. Like most other rural areas of the Middle East I’ve visited, women occupy a separate quarter of the house when male guests are present.
The next morning, after several rounds of tea with a variety of people, Dave and I left Kaffina with an open invitation to return.
While Americans struggle to understand the Middle East and political Islam, Islamic parties like Hamas and Hezbollah have risen to prominence in Middle Eastern political life. As Hamas vies for control in Palestine’s political system, it’s shown both willingness and the ability to pacify its militant factions. In Lebanon’s June 5, 2005 parliamentary elections Hezbollah and its ally Amal, also an armed Shi’a movement captured all seventeen seats of parliament designated for Southern Lebanon.
The members of Hamas that Dave and I met, explained that Hamas was divided into two parts: those who supported Hamas’ political aims, and those who used militant means to achieve them. Our friends in Kaffina were part of the former group.
Membership to an Islamic group involved in terrorist activities doesn’t make someone a terrorist or mean that they support it. As Islam integrates with modernity it is not as easy to understand as most Westerners would wish.
Our host had wheeled a television into the sitting room where we’d set up sleeping mats and blankets. A low-budget, American thriller glowed in the background as everyone chatted and watched TV during a lull. On TV an American woman had seduced some important figure on his private yacht and while he wasn’t looking she poisoned his drink. I whispered to the Hamas member next to me, “In America our women are beautiful, but dangerous.” He laughed and gave me a high-five.
Dave’s friend Mohamed invited the two of us to visit his hometown outside Tulkarm in the Northwest corner of the West Bank. We arrived in Tulkarm and wandered the city before meeting with Mohamed. An isolated city without any biblical or historic sites, few tourists or business people visit Tulkarm. Hamas flags and posters remembering the martyrs, Palestinians who died fighting Israel hang on almost every building.
Most of the locals were curious and confused to see two Americans strolling through their town. A fruit vender stopped us, gave us each an apple, and asked us how he could get a visa to America. A man who sold underwear pointed to a bra and asked us what the word for it was in English. A general store owner invited Dave and I to have tea with him. We met Mohamed and a group of his friends, and they took us on a brief walking tour of Tulkarm before we took a service taxi to Kaffina, their village.
Mohamed’s mother served us several rounds of tea and prepared fish for dinner. We chatted about mobile phones, digital cameras, and an ornamental boat Mohamed’s brother made during the time he spent in prison for his involvement with Hamas. On the door to the sitting room the family had pasted a picture of Shiekh Yassin and Rantisi, leaders of Hamas who were assassinated by the Israelis in the spring of 2004. Several of Mohamed’s friends also had pictures of Yassin and Rantisi, along with other Hamas paraphernalia on their notebooks.
After dinner, Mohamed and his friends showed us around Kaffina. While few foreigners venture out to Tulkarm, even less make it to Kaffina. Children ran along beside us, introducing themselves and asking for our names. Adults stopped to talk with us and invited us back to their houses.
A group of locals surrounded Dave and I in a convenience store owned by Mohamed’s uncle. They wanted to practice their English, so they went around the room introducing themselves to us and telling us about their jobs and interest in English. A member from the Al-Aqsa Martyr Brigade popped into the crowd, smiled at everyone, shook hands with Dave and me, and dropped off some flyers. The group glanced at the Al-Aqsa Martyr Brigade flyer, balled it up, threw it in the trash, and didn’t bother showing it to Dave or me. Most of them were members of Hamas, so perhaps they weren’t interested in the Al-Aqsa Martyr Brigade’s newest statement.
Soon we were hopping from tea party to tea party at various homes. Along the way Mohamed pointed out two houses that belonged to his uncle that the Israelis had destroyed. They accused him of helping suicide bombers enter Israel. His uncle is currently serving a life sentence and his nineteen children live elsewhere. A close friend of Mohamed’s family lives next to the remains of one of the demolished houses, so we had an evening on their patio.
The patron of the house asked for my thoughts on Islam. I told him that while Islam generally seemed to be a peaceful religion that helped people live good lives, I was disappointed in how little Islam had reformed. I blamed this lack of development on Islam’s insistence that the Qur’an was the literal word of God. I argued that because Mohamed the Prophet was illiterate and the Qur’an wasn’t actually written down until nearly thirty years after his death, perhaps human error might have distorted the message. This would be akin to telling a Catholic that Mary really lied about the Immaculate Conception.
The members of Hamas, the fundamentalist Islamic group, seriously listened to my argument. They didn’t agree, but they respected my opinion. No one got offended or threatened me. It was just a conversation about religion.
At the next tea party, the patron showed Dave and I how he’d turned the ground floor of his house into a miniature farm with sheep and chickens. After a brief tea party at the neighbor’s house, we returned to the farmhouse, set up the slumber area for Dave, me, and the five or six members of Hamas.
Before bed the patron’s wife prepared a spread of eggs, fried potatoes, cheese, and chopped vegetables for everyone. She laid it out for us, while everyone was at the neighbor’s house. Like most other rural areas of the Middle East I’ve visited, women occupy a separate quarter of the house when male guests are present.
The next morning, after several rounds of tea with a variety of people, Dave and I left Kaffina with an open invitation to return.
While Americans struggle to understand the Middle East and political Islam, Islamic parties like Hamas and Hezbollah have risen to prominence in Middle Eastern political life. As Hamas vies for control in Palestine’s political system, it’s shown both willingness and the ability to pacify its militant factions. In Lebanon’s June 5, 2005 parliamentary elections Hezbollah and its ally Amal, also an armed Shi’a movement captured all seventeen seats of parliament designated for Southern Lebanon.
The members of Hamas that Dave and I met, explained that Hamas was divided into two parts: those who supported Hamas’ political aims, and those who used militant means to achieve them. Our friends in Kaffina were part of the former group.
Membership to an Islamic group involved in terrorist activities doesn’t make someone a terrorist or mean that they support it. As Islam integrates with modernity it is not as easy to understand as most Westerners would wish.
posted by Tom | 3:16 PM
1 Comments:
That's a great first person opinion piece there. Thanks for publishing it!
Regards.
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