“The Nakba, Memory, Reality and Beyond”
The Seventh International Sabeel Conference, Nazareth/Jerusalem, 2008
By Bill Plitt
Josef Ben-Eliezer is a holocaust survivor. As a young Israeli soldier in 1948, he participated in the “Nakba”, the expulsion of Palestinians from their homes and villages. His military actions in Ramla, a small village near the coast, recalled his own childhood when his family was forced out of their home in Poland, marched to the Russian border, and taken by train to the camps of Siberia.


He shared his story with us one evening at the Sabeel Conference which met that night in the Israeli City of Nazareth. It was a gathering of 175 Christians from five continents concerned about peace with justice. Josef’s story was powerful, and he recognized that what he had done in1948, was precisely what had happened to him at the hands of the Nazis, a few short years before. He no longer could remain in the Israeli army or in the country to which he had been drawn. His strong need for personal survival, as well as the drive to preserve his new homeland’s existence, dissipated as he realized the connection between his own horrors as a ten year old, and those he was inflicting on others, as a soldier.

You could have heard a pin drop during his retelling of the story. Every word was measured. There was not a dry eye in the room, when Josef described his return to Israel some years later, and his subsequent conversation with a survivor of Ramla. It was then that he revealed, he had asked for forgiveness from the Palestinian for any pain he may have wrought as soldier.

When Josef had finished his story, a lone Palestinian of similar age, rose slowly from the back of the hall and said in a critical tone, “I appreciate the sincerity of your words, but it is not enough. More like you are needed to stand up and share your stories. I thank you for your courage.” He paused and then said, “I wish you many long and happy years!” The two former adversaries shared that night a message of reconciliation and forgiveness, two necessary ingredients for true peace with justice. The moment was symbolic of the entire week as we heard more of such stories and more attempts to disclose the Palestinian narrative from both sides, so long buried in time.

After a week of digging more deeply into the events of what happened to the 750,000 Palestinians who had been forced to leave their villages in 1948, as well as hearing attempts by some Israelis to right the wrongs of that era, the conference participants were greatly moved to make their international presence known in some meaningful, non-violent way. 48 participants rose together that night in the Deheisheh Refugee Camp, outside of Bethlehem, planned our strategy and rented a bus to Gaza the next morning. We could no longer be content to just sit and listen to more stories of pain. It was a call to action.


The news report from the day before indicated that the Israeli Military in Gaza had refused representatives of non-governmental Organizations (NGO’s) their right of entry into the city for a second straight day. The bus arrived at the terminal building of the Gaza gate of Eretz, a large, modern edifice with a glass facade that stood three stories high, and extended the width of parking lot some 150 yards. The building denied the presence on the other side of a city of 1.5 million Palestinians under siege. Only the flies revealed their existence.


We were there to stand in solidarity with the health care organizations and media that had been denied rights guaranteed by international law. Mairead Maguire, a Noble Peace Laureate from Ireland, stood with us, as we encircled the NGO’s, who were holding an impromptu staff meeting in the center of the empty parking lot, to discuss the implications of being prevented entry into what appeared to be the world’s largest outdoor prison.

The next day, the NGO’s were allowed to enter, and shipments of food crossed the gate for the first time that week. There is no indication that our presence made any difference. But the NGO’s felt supported by our presence. We had felt we had made an attempt to act on our call to stand with those who mourn. At that point, the conference became more than a series of panel discussions and stories. It had become a call for an end of the occupation for both Israelis and Palestinians.

The week was full of rich worship experiences, memorable visits to destroyed villages and the stories of their inhabitants, stirring lectures by distinguished scholars like Rashid Khalidi, impassioned speeches by diplomats such as the former Prime Minister of the Netherlands, Andreas Van Agt, and descriptions of heroic acts by both Israeli and Arab citizens to expose the horrors of the disaster, the Nokba of 1948.


Submitted by Bill Plitt, December 23, 2008