Four years ago, the conflict in Israel-Palestine hit the news in
a big way. UCLA students ““ usually an insular community
““ opened their newspapers to images of war: photos of the
aftermath of suicide bombers, pictures of the carnage wrought by
Israeli tanks, dead civilians of all ages, from both sides. In a
region marked by unrest, violence had exploded. At UCLA, the
violence mobilized and polarized students. It launched a war of
wills, words and propaganda. Talking to students who are supporters
of both Israel and Palestine, you might never know there’s a
war going on. The vast majority of them are friendly people. Many
talk about reconciliation and peaceful co-existence. They mouth
those half-hopeful, half-skeptical, and wholly speculative words: a
solution. But dig deeper and it becomes apparent that the two sides
differ on many aspects of the conflict ““ when it began, why
it’s happening, even the words used to describe it. Dig
deeper, and it’s clear that though these people go to the
same school and walk the same halls, they are treading paths miles
apart from one another. How the conflict impacted students on
campus depends on who you talk to. For most, as the conflict has
dragged on over four years, it has entrenched the two sides deeper
behind their beliefs. It has sparked fears, inflamed prejudices and
set emotions ablaze as both sides rallied around the shared but
divided battle cry: We are right. For others, the past four years
have built bridges. The bloodshed in Israel-Palestine has awaken
one side to the existence of the other. It has encouraged ““
or forced ““ concessions. And, in some instances, dialogue has
occurred. To the casual student on Bruin Walk, the subtle ways the
conflict plays out within communities would not be visible. What
would be clear is the dispute. Blue and white Israeli flags against
red, black, white and green Palestinian ones. Sign board against
sign board. Stare against stare. Many students leaving UCLA will
have seen the conflict as dividing the campus. That is only part of
the reality, but it’s the part that will be most remembered.
Mohammad Mertaban, the 2002-2003 president of the Muslim Students
Association, aptly summed up campus sentiment between supporters of
the two sides. “For us,” he said, “it
doesn’t make any sense how they see it, and for them, it
doesn’t make any sense how we see it.”
Four years ago On Sept. 28, 2000,
then-opposition leader in the Israeli parliament Ariel Sharon made
a much-publicized and heavily guarded visit to the Temple Mount in
Jerusalem. Sharon was there briefly, but it still angered
Palestinians, who saw it as a symbolic move by Israel to take
control of the site, which is revered in both Islam and Judaism.
After Sharon left, Palestinian militants and terrorists rose up
against Israel. Palestinians felt it was a spontaneous
demonstration against Sharon’s visit, the result of years of
frustration and humiliation under Israeli military occupation. To
Israelis, the uprising, known as the second intifada, was a move by
Palestinian leaders to encroach on the Jewish state. As of June 9,
the uprising had claimed over 902 Israelis and 3,029 Palestinian
lives, according to the Middle East Policy Council.
On the front line Like many Jewish students at
UCLA, Segalit Noureal has family in Israel. She knows people who
have been wounded in terrorist attacks. The woman who lives above
her grandparents lost some of her fingers to a suicide bomber.
“Because Israel’s such a small country “¦ you
can’t help but know somebody who’s been hurt,”
said Noureal, a fourth-year political science student. The violence
in Israel-Palestine hit close enough to home to spark emotions in
many students. It created fear and anxiety ““ and it
wasn’t just over what was going on in Israel. When the second
intifada began, Jewish groups in the United States say there was an
alarming rise in anti-Israel and anti-Semetic sentiments at
universities nationwide. At UCLA, for example, during a teach-in by
the Muslim Students Association on “Zionist oppression”
entitled “The Struggle for Human Rights” in May 2001,
someone showed up with a sign that equated Zionism to racism with a
swastika. Onlooking students from the Jewish Student Union were
furious. Yelling matches took place. Rabbi Chaim Seidler-Feller,
the director of UCLA Hillel, took the sign from the person and tore
it up. Some students left in anger, others with tears in their
eyes. MSA said the person with the swastika sign was not part of
their group and that they did not agree with the use of the Nazi
symbol. Incidents like this set Israel supporters back on their
heels. They felt attacked. Some have characterized it as a war
launched in universities, a new front line in the fight for Israel.
And this gave rise to a new phenomenon: Israel advocacy. Groups
were mobilized on campuses. Students were given the opportunity to
attend Israel advocacy conferences ““ some as far away as
Washington, D.C., or Israel, and some free of charge ““ to
learn how to become a supporter of Israel. To these students,
coming out aggressively and visibly in favor of Israel was
necessary. “The sad thing about this is that the reason why a
lot of people are pro-Israel is because we feel we have to
be,” said Justin Levi, the 2001-2002 Jewish Student Union
president. “The joke in the Jewish community,” he added
later, “is that the hardest place to be pro-Israel is the
American university.” Israel advocacy has left its mark on
UCLA. The student group Bruins for Israel, the largest pro-Israel
group on campus, was formed after the second intifada began. About
that time, the Israel Consulate in Los Angeles became more
interested in networking with UCLA students. It provided resources
for Israel Independence Day celebrations ““ once a modest
gathering of students that has now become loud, colorful and
crowded, an event many can’t help but notice. Noureal, the
2004-2005 president of Bruins for Israel, said as an American
student, advocating for Israel is the only way she feels she can
make a difference. “It’s my own battle for
Israel,” she said. For Levi, pushing Israel’s position
continued after he graduated. He is currently the academic affairs
director for the Israel Consulate, in charge of coordinating
activities at colleges in six and a half states. Levi said he was
tapped almost immediately for the job by the Consulate because of
his strong participation in pro-Israel activities at UCLA. But some
say the environment fostered by Israel advocacy makes it hard for
moderates to speak out without being branded a traitor or, worse,
an anti-Semite. Gideon Baum, the former president of the Jewish
Student Union, characterized it as the “the total destruction
of the middle ground” of the Jewish community. Ross Neihaus,
the 2003-2004 president of Bruins for Israel, said he thinks
someone can criticize Israel without being called an anti-Semite.
But he also said people sometimes confuse the two because their
arguments can appear similar. Baum said he was “very
offended” by anti-Israel posters and speakers on campus. But
he also said the idea that students were “soldiers on the
front line in the struggle for Israel” is a bad way of
looking at things. “It’s a horrendous paradigm, and I
think that’s the paradigm being used,” he said.
“A lot of Jewish students “¦ feel defensive,” he
added. “We feel a need to somehow justify the actions of
whatever side we support.” The issue at hand is whether
justifying Israel has come at the cost of dissenting opinion
““ and, if true, what ramifications that could have on the
future.
Fifty-five years and counting Students like
Ehaab Zubi can be hard to find. Zubi, the 2003-2004 editor-in-chief
of the Muslim student magazine Al-Talib, is a full Palestinian
““ a nationality that is a minority among Arabs and American
college campuses. To Zubi, the Israel-Palestine conflict did not
start four years ago. Instead, it’s been going on since
Israel declared its independence in 1948 and the Palestinian people
suddenly felt they had lost a home. For the Palestinian community,
the struggle for a homeland has lasted over 55 years.
“It’s always been part of everything around me,”
Zubi said. “When I see someone who is oppressing my people
… you have to empathize with your people.” But though they
see the most recent intifada as part of an ongoing struggle, it has
changed things within the pro-Palestine community ““ most
noticeably the way it presents itself to the campus at large.
Because no official pro-Palestine group existed on campus until
earlier this year, the cause had fallen on the Muslim Students
Association. Shortly after the second intifada started, students
began wearing green arm bands to show their solidarity with the
Palestinians. In 2001, MSA pushed a resolution before the
Undergraduate Students Association Council that asked them to
condemn Zionism as a form of “racism and racial
discrimination.” The council decided not to consider the
resolution. But it showed how strongly students were reacting to
the recently-flared conflict. Mertaban, a former MSA president,
said the UCLA Muslim community decided four or five years ago that
it needed to try to make itself less insular, though he said the
decision had nothing to do with the intifada. Some of the changes
were broad, like networking with other groups. Some were specific,
such as deciding not to wear all black clothing to rallies but
instead colors that were less “intimidating,” Mertaban
said. But even if MSA’s overhaul was not directly related to
Palestine, it still affected it. Now, student groups such as
Samahang Pilipino, the Peace and Justice Coalition and the African
Student Union have joined the Palestinian cause. Pro-Palestine
groups like al-Awda and Students for Justice in Palestine have been
formed. Palestine advocacy, though still not as well organized as
pro-Israel groups, seems poised for a breakthrough. This movement
owes at least some of its momentum to the second intifada.
“When the second intifada occurred, the issue of Palestine
obviously came back into the limelight, so people read the news and
asked more questions about what was going on,” said Mahmud
Penjiwini, a UCLA graduate and 2001-2002 MSA external vice
president. Many Palestine supporters deny the implication that
there was a rise in anti-Semitism or anti-Israel sentiments when
the second intifada started. Instead, they see it as a natural time
for people to express dissatisfaction with Israel’s policies.
And Palestine supporters also reject the idea from Israel advocates
that before the second intifada began there was a chance for peace.
“There’s a fundamental difference between the way
they’d define peace and the way pro-Palestine people define
peace,” Penjiwini said. “I mean, you could say there
was peace in South Africa before apartheid was repealed.”
Though the last four years have been marked by a hardening of
relations between the two sides, some have also seen a thaw.
Mertaban said during his first year at UCLA in 1999 it was
understood that if he saw a member of the Jewish Student Union,
they would not even look at each other. But over four years, though
no one’s political beliefs have changed, Mertaban says other
things have. He says now he’ll not only make eye-contact with
JSU members, but even talk with them sometimes. The conflict, so
often seen as divisive, also made it necessary for people to talk
to each other again. Mertaban says an important form of dialogue
has been taking place, not the political kind, but the personal
kind. “The divide between the two groups was a lot more
apparent back then,” he said. Mertaban had expressed
something shared by both sides, even though it has often been in
short supply and often followed by a cynical look: optimism.
“While there are those reaching out, there are more pulling
in,” Baum said. “But there’s been some rays of
hope.”
Different paths, same direction The
Israel-Palestine conflict has left a legacy of paradox at UCLA. It
unified much of the Jewish community ““ but divided it
internally. It punched holes in relations between pro-Israel and
pro-Palestine groups ““ but gave them a reason to talk, and,
in talking, find something a bit more human about the other. Four
years ago, a minority of students followed the conflict. Now,
it’s hard to walk through campus without seeing a poster,
video or flier about it. But though awareness of the conflict has
increased, some wonder whether it really translates to an increase
in knowledge. The conflict has taken a heavy toll on those who see
its effect every day. A weariness is creeping in, especially on the
Israeli side. Sharon, the present Israeli prime minister, is
pushing for Israel to wall itself off from the Palestinians. His
proposal is being hotly debated in the Israeli parliament. But even
if Sharon seals off Israel, students will find it harder to seal
off each other, no matter what their political beliefs. If there is
one thing the past four years have made clear, it is that, no
matter how divergent the paths of the two sides are, they still
inevitably cross.