top of page

The Right to Live and Be Honoured

Allow me to take you backstage at a recent meeting of those planning the second annual Interfaith March for Justice, Equality and Peace in Jerusalem, set for June this year. My colleague Muriel Pearson participated in last year’s march, held within days of  ‘flag day’ and its aggressive passage through the streets of the Old City. This year, Rabbis for Human Rights (RHR) have again taken the lead in bringing Jews, Christians and Muslims, and people of different faiths and secular peace organisations, together to plan it.  Women and men in equal numbers, well versed in justice and peace work.


A section of the peace wall at Tabeetha School, Jaffa.
A section of the peace wall at Tabeetha School, Jaffa.

Already at our first meeting in January, three and half months into the Israel-Hamas war, there were many questions that resisted easy answers. Need it be in Jerusalem? Could it not be in Tel Aviv, or in the north and the south as well? Will Palestinians from the West Bank be able to participate, given the ban on permits to enter Israel? Will Palestinians, whether Muslim or Christian, wish to participate even if a way can be found for it, given the situation? The name of the march came in for scrutiny. We concluded that we had much to do.

This week, meeting two days after Iran’s drone and missile attack on Israel, our questions multiplied. A secular rabbi suggested we call it an Inter-Belief March to signal our welcome of secular participants. What might the best route be? And can we agree on Jerusalem? Is there a way to organise and advertise the march that allows Muslims and Palestinian Christians to participate without subjecting themselves to unbearable levels of suspicion from within, and without exposing themselves to unprotectable levels of targeting by Israeli authorities? Not for the first time, it was clear to us that we are differently vulnerable – that some participants were counting a higher potential cost. Not that this was anything new, or in itself meant non-participation. It is a usual dynamic in a diverse group planning a controversial action at a highly conflicted time in a deeply divided city.


The question of our overall goal generated many responses. For one person, to be seen together for the peace of Jerusalem was our main goal, that it be clear the conflict is not a religious conflict. Our message, said some, should be a religious message of peace. Others thought our goal should be that we show we can talk together, get to know one other. Still another thought we should make sure we speak out – that it is not enough to be seen marching together – and that we should call the media to cover the march. Our message could be: ‘War will not bring us to peace.’ We should promote our values as human beings, thought another: the right to live and be honoured.


I found myself loving this last line, for its condemnation of racism not least, and considered its merit both for the march and for all of our work for justice and peace. It tied in with the emphasis on human dignity and worth that some of us have been pursuing through Praying Together in Jerusalem, which brings people of the three Abrahamic faiths together weekly since the war started, many of them joining online from around the world. Asked to bring a Christian teaching at a recent meeting, I gave a reading of the not uncontentious Parable of the Good Samaritan and bid us consider the human dignity of those left for dead, for obvious reasons. The typology of perpetrators, victims, bystanders (passers-by in this case), and rescuers, was a useful lens through which to read the text, as was a weighing of the future tense of mercy. These thoughts detained me again as the meeting went on.


A veteran Christian justice and peace activist then asked: are we courageous enough to walk … for the underdog? Can we name the occupation and its realities? Can we listen to each other? Can we aim far higher than the matter of getting a brochure photo of us marching together? Some cautioned that we need to limit our goals, saying it is just a march. On the other hand, one of the RHR organisers insisted, there is added weight because of the times (the war) and the city (Jerusalem the divided). They urged that our message be that of justice – a shared value. That we stand boldly against retaliation, inequality, and the extreme nationalism of ‘flag day,’ with its goal of forced ‘reunification’ of Jerusalem.


We need to collect our powers, said a rabbi, and make our march the main event. There are not many opportunities for us, let us seize this one.


As our chairperson then tried to gather up what had been said, the discussion continued. The word justice is harsh in some ears, noted one. Another said it is too abstract. This sent us back to last year’s theme: Justice, Equality and Peace. Someone suggested we should add the words: ‘in a time of crisis’ to it.


Detail from the peace wall at Tabeetha School, Jaffa.
Detail from the peace wall at Tabeetha School, Jaffa.

As time began to run out on the meeting, a Muslim participant observed that the fear of public pressure was great. We need to meet beforehand to talk, they said. There is great suspicion of those willing to appear together with Israelis. Responding to this, a woman rabbi urged us to think more carefully about ‘khesed’ – loving kindness – perhaps thinking that Jews and Christians could do something to honour Muslims, saying you are not invisible to us. Not only Muslims, added one, but Palestinian Christians as well.

Our chair, noting the late arrival of a Muslim leader, asked them to speak. We should do something to build trust, they said. Muslims and Jews and Christians. To build trust is the first thing.


Observing that there were many steps on our road, our chair concluded the meeting. We were invited to submit responses once the draft notes were circulated.

In conversation with one of the rabbis afterwards, I learned that his congregation was holding a learning session that night on Passover, only days away. We must ask different questions, he said. Ask questions in a different way, to learn.

I do not know what your response to my account has been as you made your way through it – if indeed you got his far – but I can report that I did not at any time give up the will to live. Either during the meeting or while writing up my notes. It is not of that order. I feel very small in front of the huge questions that detain us, and pray we find a way to march together to assert the equal right of all to live and be honoured.


Thanks,

Stewart

bottom of page