It’s the summer of 1991 — two years before Joe Carter hits that epic walk-off homer — and I’m in Israel, on assignment for National Geographic magazine.
One morning, I leave my hotel in Jerusalem and drive to a Jewish settlement in the occupied West Bank. When I arrive, I walk around a bit to get oriented, and that’s when I see him — a young boy wearing a Toronto Blue Jays cap.
As we approach, we give each other a friendly nod.
“Hey, are you a Blue Jays fan?” I ask, pointing at his cap.
“Yes, I am,” he says enthusiastically, with no discernable accent.
“Are you from Toronto?”
“Yup!”
“The Blue Jays are looking strong in the AL East this year!” I say. “So, what brings you to the West Bank?”
“It’s called Judea and Samaria,” he says. “And I live here with my family.”
“You moved here permanently? To this settlement?”
“Yup.”
[awkward pause]
“If you don’t mind my asking,” I say, “why did you leave Toronto? I’ve heard it’s a wonderful city.”
“Because this is our home. This is our land.”
“Really??”
“It sure is! G*d gave it to us. It’s all spelled out in the Bible.”
Oy vey
I’ve thought about that boy many times over the years, and I usually dismiss him and his parents as deluded and dangerous. I’ve long considered the whole settler movement to be a crazy mistake, and, generally speaking, I still do.
How can anyone make a legitimate claim to territory based on the bizarre promises of a Deity who speaks to us via some ancient, tribal narrative? “G*d says this belongs to me” seems like a weak argument to make about… well, about most everything.
Then again, if I’m honest with myself, I get stuck on the following plot point: I live in Bethesda, Maryland. Once, in the not-so-distant past, this land was home to the Algonquin, the Iroquois, the Siouan, and many other native people, but now they’re gone. What was our claim to the land?
Short answer: We didn’t have a legitimate claim. Our European ancestors just showed up with guns, ammo, and blankets infested with smallpox. And here we are.
“But… but… you’re comparing apples and oranges!”
What’s the difference between Israeli settlers and Americans like me and my neighbors… and you? Only two things:
Time: Europeans committed their crimes hundreds of years ago, and we’ve generously given ourselves a free pass, insisting that our murderous bygones be bygones. But the Israeli-Palestinian drama is unfolding right now, today, in real time.
Story: The Bible (writ large) is a connected narrative of history — of a people and of the world — enmeshed in the five books of Moses. The Bible “defined a national identity, perhaps for the first time, by articulating a philosophy of history,” writes Amos Elon. The Bible introduced the idea of progress to the world, and “in its time it was an absolutely sensational idea. Thucydides still thought it was worth writing the history of the Peloponnesian war because its events inevitably would be repeated. The scribes and prophets of Jerusalem challenged the prevailing notion that history necessarily moved in circles, repeating itself again and again. They invented utopia, the possibility of a better world. They enunciated hope on a grand scale. They postulated the possibility of a linear progression toward a better, more worthwhile life.”
Today, more than 4 billion people — Jews, Christians, and Moslems — have latched on to this “connected narrative of history,” writing new chapters and introducing new characters to make this Story their own.
Multiple choice
Now when I think about that boy from Toronto, I’m confronted with three general possibilities:
The Hebrew Bible, as a Story, is nonsense. G*d’s “land that I will show you” promise to Abraham and the subsequent narrative shtick needs to disappear, the sooner the better. Revelation is a fiction. Religion is a dangerous opiate. It’s time for people to grow up.
OR…The Hebrew Bible and its “connected narrative of history” give us important insights into the human predicament, but this wisdom has been superseded by subsequent revelations and plot twists (e.g., via Christ; Mohammed; Joseph Smith; L. Ron Hubbard; ____________).
OR…The boy from Toronto doesn’t interpret the Biblical narrative the way I do, but he’s not completely crazy. The Story still matters.
After many years of mulling over these options, I chose #3. And I still do.
What about you?
Sorry, the difference between how america was colonised by various European powers and the settlement of Jews in the holy land (Israel etc) is a lot more than the timing and the story. I think the religious significant of the holy land is a key part of why most people who live in Israel choose to do so, just as the weather is a big factor in where people move when they retire.
Your question was why the person chose to move, not why they think they have a legitimate right to live there, which is a very different question.
During the periods of Ottoman and British control jews purchased , rented and owned land / homes etc in the same way as anyone else did according to the governing regulations of the Ottoman/British powers. (this was certainly not by force)
During the war of independence/nakba (and partially in periods before such as the 1929 riots) ALL jews were forced out of Gaza and what became (Trans) Jordon's annexed west bank. When these areas came under Israel's control after the war of 1967 Jews were allowed to return to these areas.
They were not allowed to live/build on property they/the state did not own.