‘I realised it has been easier for me to talk to those who are furthest away’

EETTA PRINCE-GIBSON: Women Wage Peace reach out to religious women at the West Bank settlement of Tekoa in a bid to find common ground.

As the chartered bus bringing about 30 women from Women Wage Peace (WWP) comes closer to its destination, the lively, friendly chatter quiets down. The Israeli feminist peace group is headed to Tekoa, a settlement in the West Bank, part of its "Journey to Peace”, a month-long event in venues throughout Israel and the West Bank, co-sponsored by WWP and Women of the Sun, a recently-founded Palestinian feminist peace movement.

For some of the women from WWP, this is their first time in a settlement in the territories. Before they get off the bus, one of the leaders of the group takes the microphone and says, gently yet deliberately, that she knows that this could be a difficult meeting for some.

"It's OK to have an opinion," she says. "It's OK to discuss, to argue. We are here to build connections. We are all built differently, and each of us will think what it means to her to create connections and what the best solution for this day is for her."

Women of the Sun did not attend this meeting in the settlement, but their logo, in Arabic, appears prominently on the signs hung up by women from WWP. As part of the shared "journey", the Palestinians have invited the Israeli women to Beit Jalla, near Bethlehem, next week.

About 20 women from Tekoa greet the women from WWP as they arrive, inviting them to a spread of salads, vegetables and breads. They mingle, the women from WWP in white with their trademark long turquoise scarves, the women from Tekoa with head coverings. Overall, the women from WWP look older, most seemingly at least in their fifties, while the women from Tekoa seem younger, in their thirties and forties.

Aliyat Nissat, 48, is dressed in the tight black hijab and embroidered blouse that identify her as a Bedouin. She is from Bosmat Tiv'on, a village in northern Israel.  She is, she says, a member of WWP, which includes Arab women from within Israel.  At the beginning, she was frightened about coming to the settlement, she says, "but I see how they have welcomed us, and I feel comfortable. 

“I believe that these women are beginning something new, too - they are beginning to realise that everyone, from all nationalities and religions, must be treated equally."

In a clearing, under a tarp, seats have been set up in a circle. The Judean hills, browned by the summer, spread off into the distance towards Jordan, birds are chirping, and the wind is light and pleasant.

The scene is almost pastoral and bucolic, but everyone knows that difficult questions are in the background. To the women from Tekoa, this is home, and they believe they have religious, historical, national and political rights to be here.  To some of the women from WWP, this is occupied territory, and the settlement of Tekoa will have to be evacuated for any peace plan to succeed.

The atmosphere in the territories is tense, and terrorist attacks are increasing. Israeli forces are on high alert and conducting operations in Palestinian cities in the West Bank. Just a few days earlier, in the Palestinian village of Teqowa, across the valley and visible from the circle, seven-year-old Rian Suleiman died, apparently of heart failure and fear, when Israeli soldiers burst into his home to arrest members of his family.

If difficult issues like these come up in these types of meetings, says Yael Adami, founder and leader of WWP, it is only after deep connections between the participants have been formed. "The goal of WWP," she explains, "is to include as many women as possible, so we avoid loaded terms that will turn women away.

“I have spent many hours in demonstrations screaming against the occupation. What has that achieved? WWP speaks a different language, the common language of women and mothers, so that we can bring in partners from different communities. This meeting couldn't take place otherwise."

The women sit in the circle, and Michal Froman from Tekoa, who has organised the meeting, takes the microphone. She notes that the meeting is taking place just after Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, "at a time when our hearts are open. Many different things have brought me to this place in time and thought," she says. 

She does not elaborate, but the women in the group know.  Froman is the daughter-in-law of the late Rabbi Menachem Froman, chief rabbi of Tekoa, who died of cancer in 2013. He was widely regarded as a peace maker and negotiator and had close ties with Palestinian religious leaders. In 2016, Froman, then pregnant, was knifed in a terrorist attack near the settlement, and was lucky that she and her baby survived.

Froman suggests that the participants go around the circle, introducing themselves and adding what they wish for in the coming year. Liraz from Tekoa says, "I hope that we can hear the voices," citing a passage from Exodus that was read during the High Holy Days and explaining that she means "to truly see the way to peace, with all our being".

As the microphone is passed around the circle, there is lots of laughter and "women's knowing", as they refer to it.  A woman from Tekoa brings her infant with her, and women smile when he coos. They all giggle as one woman questions whether they should speak in the masculine plural, as formal Hebrew dictates, because there are one or two men in the circle.  (They decide to continue in the feminine plural.)

The women from WWP speak in general terms about peace and inclusivity. One identifies herself as a teacher, and says that for this year, she hopes that her students will learn to be non-violent, at least with each other.

Another woman, Ilana, says softly, "in this beautiful, bloody region, I hope that we, the women, can find a way to live here quietly, with security for all".

A third woman tells the group that on the day that her son was conscripted into the army, she conscripted herself into Women Wage Peace. He has recently completed his service and has been discharged, but she doesn't feel that she can discharge herself in her work for peace.

Another woman, Hani, adds: "I wish that each and every one of us will truly believe that will each and every person was born equal."

Vivian says she came to Israel from Canada about 50 years ago, and lives on the border with Gaza. "I pray for all of the mothers who are here – and for those who are not here," she says. "I pray that our governments will listen to us, mothers and women, instead of listening just to themselves."

Another reminds the participants about struggles of the women in Iran and Afghanistan. "They are real heroes, and I hope we learn from them," she says. With a bit of a smile, she adds: "and now I will talk politics."

"Oh, no, we agreed not to talk politics," some say. "Not politics," others call out.

"I want to say," she continues, "we will have elections soon. And I hope and pray that the moderates, and not the extremists, will get the majority."

The group responds with a chorus of amen.

Most of the women from Tekoa introduce themselves by saying how long they have lived in the settlement, and some of their answers are deeply personal and pained. Shuli, who has lived here for 15 years, says she hopes that: "every time I come to a point where I think I understand, or think I know what it means to listen or to be compassionate, or what justice is, I hope my point of view will become broader, so that I can understand better. I hope I will always know that I don't have all the answers."

Ruti, who has been in Tekoa "for many years", has worked in humanitarian aid in Syria, Ukraine, and other places. "I realised it has been easier for me to talk to those who are furthest away from me.  On Yom Kippur, I felt I couldn't breathe, and so I took with me the papers from the Annapolis Conference, from a more hopeful time, and I read them in the synagogue."

WWP founder Adami is one of the last to speak. "I think of the mother of that seven-year-old boy, killed just over there," she says, referring to the village of Teqowa. "Another victim of this conflict. I don't want any more mothers to cry."

When they have completed the circle, a rabbanit [the wife of a rabbi in the settlement] offers a religious study session on some of the Jewish sayings about peace. Some of the women listen, discuss, and argue about the texts she has brought. But most are happy to mill about, continuing their discussions.

After about a half hour, Froman tries to end the meeting, encouraging the women from WWP to come again soon. But first, as is their tradition, the women from WWP form a circle with the women from Tekoa, their arms around each other and sing a few songs of peace and hope.

"Most of the women from WWP are secular, and they don't have to rush home," observes Froman with a patient smile. "But for most of us in Tekoa, we are home – but we have to rush because it's Friday, and we have to prepare for the Shabbat."

 "Well, I guess that's another difference between us," she concludes.

Photo: Yael Admi and Michal Froman

All photos: Reza Green