NAZARETH – At 11:45 this morning, the muezzin called out the Muslim call to prayer in this city holy to Christians but populated overwhelmingly by Muslims. Just a few minutes later, as Muslim men lined up for prayer at the White Mosque, the bells in the tower of the Church of the Annunciation pealed loudly. It was a reminder of the tension between the faiths of this land, each of them vying for space, time and even the airwaves.
But one religious leader we met with today said that the conflict is not about religion.
“The conflict between Jews, Christians, Muslims and Druzes in the Holy Land is not really based on religion,” said Bishop Hanna Kildani, the new Latin patriarch for Nazareth. “The problem is the ground – to whom [does] the land [belong to]? When you play chess with someone, you need at least two players.”
Kildani was born in 1955 in Jordan and earned a Ph.D. in history from Saint Joseph Jesuit University in Beirut. In his view, religions should stop fighting about the land. Jerusalem, he said, is the one capital in the world that is accountable solely to the Lord and should therefore belong to everyone.
We were greeted with warm hospitality in in the bishop’s office, just a few steps away from the Church of the Annunciation. Catholics believe that it was on this spot that the Archangel Gabriel delivered the news to Mary that she would be pregnant with a son.
The courtyard of the Church of the Annunciation was adorned with beautifully rendered artistic depictions of Mary from around the world.
Despite the bishop’s words, religious conflict abounds here. Recently, the Muslim group petitioned unsuccessfully to build a mosque on the next to the tomb of Shihab’al-din, a Muslim holy man. However, an improvisational “protest mosque” still stands.
Back at the patriarchate, Kildani said that Christians, who represent only two percent of the Israeli population, should build bridges, rather than walls, to other communities and between other communities.
However, he says that many Christian and Palestinians Arabs feel frustrated and disillusioned. “We recognize the borders of 1948,” he said. “We recognize the state of Israel, but not the occupation.” Former Israeli prime minister, Yitzhak Rabin, had been the embodiment for peace for him. Kildani said that he had tears in his eyes when this great statesman was assassinated. For him, Shimon Peres, the late president of Israel, had encapsulated the problem of the conflict of the land when he said that “we have a lot of history here in Israel, but very few geography.”
After we bade farewell to the bishop, we stopped for a quick lunch in the center of Nazareth before heading north to Mount Meron, the highest point in the land of Israel. Our bus made its way, first through gridlocked traffic and then a sprawling green countryside, to a trail that circled near the top of the mountain. We joined other hikers on a rocky and narrow path marked by white, blue and orange signs sprayed onto large rocks.
Professor Yarden took the lead. We made two stops along the way – one for a stunning scenic overlook with views of the Israeli city of Safed, and the other to talk about the religious significance of hiking in Israeli Jewish culture. Yarden explained that during the weeks around Passover, schools take students on nature hikes.
“Hiking the land and getting to know the land is part of the Israeli patriotic culture,” said Yarden. “To know the land is to take ownership of the land.” Early Zionists, who did not have strong connections to it believed that hiking would help them reconnect to it. It helped them get to know the history of Israel, he said.
“Hiking the land was part of a civil religion, of a new Judaism – a secular one,” said Yarden. “But it brought the old devotion to a new object.” Indeed, we passed a group of about 50 students from Yeshiva Mevaseret, who were hiking from the Mediterranean to the Sea of Galilee, while we ourselves were bypassed by a gaggle of young boys and girls.
Following the hike, we made our way down meandering roads toward Bet Jann, where we met with Druze Sheikh Jamil Khatib. We drank tea and coffee in his living room before moving to his terrace, which overlooked the town of some 12,000 Israeli Druze citizens.
Khatib laid out a short history of the Druze and the centuries-long persecution they’ve endured that has pushed them to create private communities. Their house of prayer in Bet Jann is self-effacing, built in a non-descriptive area so that outsiders cannot recognize it. Khatib added that during prayer, men and women are separated, with men praying out loud while women do so silently.
The values and beliefs of the Druze community are important and need to be passed on to the people who understand them, said the sheikh, referring to the concept that outsiders aren’t allowed to join or even study the books of the community. Only Druze can learn and practice the faith and such an exclusion of others also prohibits intermarriage.
However, Khatib emphasized the Druze’s respect of other religions, saying that God created differences among us for a reason.
“Human diversity is just a reflection of the greatness of God,” said Khatib. “We all came from Adam and Eve and it is obviously God’s will and part of the plan.”
Following our conversation, the sheikh’s family brought in platters of home cooked foods, including rice and lentil dishes, roasted carrots, a tart tomato and cucumber salad and stuffed grape leaves shaped like thick cigars. Khatib offered a Druze prayer to start the meal.
The meal concluded our third day in Israel with the sheikh’s words ringing in our ears as yet another lesson: “We should live in this world with an awareness that we’re temporary residents,” said Khatib. “We should try to improve but we should leave the world as good or better when we leave.”
Khatib said that we, as journalists, had a special responsibility to tell the story of the Druze in Israel. He noted that we came not just from New York but from around the world and he sent us off with wishes of good luck and success in our lives and work.