DAY  7

Wednesday, 13 January

We had a delicious breakfast at Kefar Ha-Choresh, and then piled into our bus to head out for the day.  As we drove, our guide spoke to us about the years he had spent on a kibbutz.  Describing members of kibbutzim as naive, idealistic and of high intellect, he told us the story of a Texan who came to visit a kibbutz. Taking him on a tour of their land, a kibbutznik explained, "From this tree to that well, and from this post to that hill-- all of this is our land."  The Texan said, "At home I get in my car and drive and drive from morning till night, and at night I still haven't reached the end of my land."  "Oh yes, " the kibbutznik replied, "we had a car like that once too."

We drove through Nazareth, now predominantly Arab, and noticed that many of the houses had steel beams protruding from their top stories.  Our guide explained that when an Arab family has a son, the father begins to build a second story on the house.  He takes his time, building a wall here, plastering it later, building another wall there, and so on until the son is of marriagable age.  When he is married, the son can then bring his wife to their home, and when each son in the family has his own story, they add a roof to indicate that the home is finished.  An Arab village is always distinguishable by its minaret located in the center of town, and the number of mosques in a village corresponds to its degree of affluence.  An overwhelming majority of the inhabitants in the Galilee, we learned, are Arab Muslim.

Driving past Bedouin camps with animals grazing peacefully beside tents, we approached the Golan Heights.  The land is rocky, and cactus as well as olive, cypress and cedar trees (finding a favorable climate so close to Lebanon) are scattered over the hillsides.

We made our first stop in Sefat, which means "view".  The town is aptly named; the view is magnificent.  Being the home of Rabbi Shimon Bar Yechoi, the "father" of Kabbalah, Sefat is a stronghold of Jewish mystical tradition, as well as a center for artisans.  It owes its strong Spanish influence to the fact that it was settled by Jews expelled from Spain in the 1500's.

Sefat

In Sefat, we visited an old Sephardic synagague.  Established by immigrants from Morocco, it is currently being restored.  In Islam, there are three colors which have symbolic meaning: light blue signifies eternity, gold symbolizes paradise, and green denotes the earth and life.  Islamic influences can be seen in the predominantly blue and white colors used in the synagogue.  The center of the synagogue is occupied by the bimah, or stage, which is flanked by two sets of stairs-- one for ascending to read Torah (which should never be done at ground level) and one for descending.  The synagogue faces south, towards Jerusalem, and the southern wall holds the Torah scrolls.  Above the main floor a fenced balcony is reserved for women.  The intersecting arches which form the domes of the ceiling also naturally form the shape of a cross, and so in the middle of every dome is a design or chandelier which effectively breaks the formation of crosses in the synagogue.

Outside we wandered through the windy, narrow, white-stoned streets.  Lined in booths gleaming with silver and steeped in rich blues and reds, each path led us to some new (or old) treasure.  In one shop we met an artist by the name of Yair Moshe.  For seven generations, his family has practiced the art of microcalligraphy.  Because of the strain on his eyes, he can work only half an hour at a time, but his shop is filled with prints containing verses of the Hebrew Bible in miniature script, arranged to form various pictures and patterns.  Yair demonstrated his technique for us by writing my name on a scrap of paper, each letter measuring only a fraction of a centimeter.

Driving out of Sefat, we had a perfect view of the Sea of Galilee.  To our left was Mount Hermon, the highest mountain in Israel, always capped with snow.  After crossing a small, very narrow bridge over the Jordan River, our guide explained that there were mine fields all around us.  The Syrians had planted a combination of different types of mines which rendered the fields impossible to clear, and so they remain as a memorial to the Israeli soldiers who died climbing the Golan Heights.

From 1960-1967, the Syrians had an army encampment with three lines of defenses in the Golan which shelled nearby kibbutzim almost daily.  In 1967 war broke out between Egypt and Israel, but Syria and Jordan joined in.  Within the first four days of battle, Israeli troops had gained the West Bank and the Sinai peninsula, and on the fifth day they took the Golan Heights.  Syrian army officers, anticipating immanent defeat, had all gone home, leaving their troops behind tied to their bunks.

In 1973, at 2pm on Yom Kippur (when everyone was in synagogue), the Syrians and Egyptians readied a surprise attack with 1,000 tanks stationed on the Golan Heights awaiting orders to descend.  Surveying this seemingly hopeless situation, Golda Meir, then Prime Minister of Israel, called it "the end of the third Temple."  Then, suddenly and inexplicably, the tanks turned around and left.  It seems that the Arab forces, not protected by anti-aircraft and unaware of how easily they could have won, feared a trap and retreated.  This unexpected reprieve came to be known as "the miracle of Yom Kippur".

Obviously, the Golan Heights is of historic military importance, but its current defensive value is hotly debated.  Add to this the fact that King Asad of Syria wants his land back and promises much sought after peace (with Syria and, by association, with Lebanon) in return, and Israel is left with a highly controversial situation made even more so by the presence of by now well established Jewish settlers in the Golan.  Yitzhak Rabin had offered to return the land with the stipulation that Israeli forces could monitor Syria, and vice versa, but Asad had refused, unwilling to accept any conditions.  Consequently, a comprehensive peace has continued to elude the two countries.

We drove to the Syrian border and disembarked at a lookout point.  At 3,000 feet above the level of Jerusalem, we had an excellent, albeit windy and cold, vantage point.  Scanning the horizon from west to east, our view encompassed windmills used as an energy source for kibbutzim along the border, a UN camp, the Syrian city of Kuneitra (Old and then New), Damascus in the distance, and Mount Hermon, the left half of which belongs to Israel and the right to Syria.

Driving a very short distance from the border we stopped for lunch at Quazrin, a village populated by over 13,000 Jews who settled it under fire and the condition that they would never have to leave.  Speaking with one of the original settlers, we learned that there are thirty-two Jewish and four Druze villages in the Golan, with an Israeli population of 34,000 people who, if the land were to be returned, would be forced either to move or find themselves and their homes suddenly in a different country.  She also explained that in the 1970's a law was passed which made the Golan Heights an integral part of Israel, that 60% of Israelis believe it should always be considered so, and that 52% believe this "even if it comes to war".  We then watched a highly politically charged film about the Golan in which scenes of bombing survivors, courageous settlers, fertile landscapes and running water were set to Smetana's "Moldau".

Elaine, Rose, Mary James, Bob and I were then parceled off to visit one family, with the remaining members of our group going to two other homes.  Amalia and her husband spoke with us about life in the Golan, telling us that there is widespread suspicion of Asad's peace offers, and that they certainly don't want to leave.  They also, however, cited the fact that Israel is a democracy, and stated that if the majority favored returning the land they would reluctantly do so.  We sepnt about an hour with this warm, gracious and hospitable family before it was time to leave.

We drove back to the kibbutz, passing the Sea of Galilee, crossing the Jordan, watching the Bedouin camps, the rolling hills with shrubs sprouting up between the rocks; the sun sets, and it is night.