What Can Women Do? / September 21, 2016 by Sophie Schor

Since my return from my summer trip to home and family in North America, it has been a blur of re-adjusting to the time zone, cultural challenges, language gaps, and humidity. As I settle back into the rhythm of the work week and proofreading the upcoming journal, I find all my free hours being filled with conversations about women and peace.

I am applying for a PhD next fall pursuing the research I've begun here on the role of women in Israeli and Palestininan societies in the peace process and what agency they have in a conflict zone. My head is swirling from hours spent investigating academic departments and funding and reading abstracts of potential future supervisors' research. Each day, a new school is added to, or crossed off from, the list; a new checkbox added to the to-do list of applications leads to calculating postage of transcripts and panic over having forgotten high-school algebra for the GRE.

Yet, I am constantly encountering things here that seems to reinforce the feeling that this is the work I want to be doing, that these are the questions that we need to be asking. Earlier this week, I attended a conference hosted by IPCRI (Israeli-Palestinian Creative Regional Initiatives) that focused on the current role of women in the peace process and UN Security Council Resolution 1325. In 2000, the UN Security Council adopted the resolution which,

"reaffirms the important role of women in the prevention and resolution of conflicts, peace negotiations, peace-building, peacekeeping, humanitarian response and in post-conflict reconstruction and stresses the importance of their equal participation and full involvement in all efforts for the maintenance and promotion of peace and security. Resolution 1325 urges all actors to increase the participation of women and incorporate gender perspectives in all United Nations peace and security efforts. It also calls on all parties to conflict to take special measures to protect women and girls from gender-based violence, particularly rape and other forms of sexual abuse, in situations of armed conflict."

This resolution is the cornerstone of the women and peace thesis which claims that women have inherent and important contributions to add to peace processes, based on their gender and based on the facts that historically they have been excluded from national and international conversations and decisions on peace and security.

I had a bumper sticker on my car from high-school from when I worked with The White House Project (an organization that supports women running for public office in the States). It said, "Add Women, Change Everything." While I fear that this saying and the notions behind these resolutions simplifies matters and portrays women in an overly simplified light as being inherently peaceful, I think it also captures a very real discourse that is unfolding around us globally and locally. In cases of violent, protracted conflicts which have been led mainly by men, what would happen if women were involved in the process? Julia Bacha of Just Vision spoke about women's power to transform conflict in Palestine in this phenomenal and highly recommended TedTalk. She highlights that the role of women in the public life and in a movement leads to the adoption of nonviolence as a tenet of resistance. She also remarks on how in many different historical moments, women were present but were invisible in the public sphere or media or narrative. Just Vision is producing a new film about women in the First Intifada, and I cannot wait to see it.

All of this is just a small example of the research that is being done which reiterates again and again that including women in negotiations, decision making, and post-conflict plans results in more successful and long-lasting peace agreements. This summer's resolution of the brutal conflict in Colombia between the government and FARC was notable for its inclusion of women at the negotiations and for the provisions of gender equality and protection of women in the resulting agreement. The resolution to Liberia's civil war was also paramount in it's inclusion of women's perspectives. For more research on these concepts see the UN's Report on Women's Participation in Peace Negotiations (2012) and the Global Study on the Implementation of Resolution 1325.

Theory is one thing, but how does this apply in real life? The conversation at the IPCRI conference began to ask those questions. There were Palestinian women there from the Jerusalem Women's Center, there were Israeli women from grassroots movements, local organizations, an Israeli Member of the Knesset, and international representation by the Swedish, Norwegian, Dutch, and Finnish Embassies. Topics were raised about the importance of creating equality for women in all spheres in Israeli and Palestinian societies in order to empower them to participate in the public and political spheres. Opportunities were discussed, and experiences were shared. The energy in the room felt effervescent, there was so much more that wanted to be said, discussed, asked, and strategized. As the evening drew to an end, and everyone began exchanging business cards and handshakes, I watched as networks were being formed before my eyes.

The next day, I joined one of the directors of IPCRI to attend a forum in Hebrew that was hosted by an Israeli organization (Itaach-Maaki) which is taking the lead in implementing the resolution in Israel. The room was filled--over 40 women and 3 men-- and representatives from many different organizations, experiences, lent their perspectives to the larger questions of how to use UNSCR 1325 as a tool, and how to work together. Representatives from Women Wage Peace, WIPS, Dafna Fund, Minds of Peace, Mahsom Watch, Combatants for Peace, and Forum for Regional Thinking were all present.

The conversation began with the basic questions of Why, What, and How:

Why are women being called upon to participate in peace processes? Why is this important?

What do they have to offer? What work exists, what work needs to be done?

How do we actually take the recommendations of the resolution and implement them in our own lives, work, and societies?

The responses were varied, were challenging, were thoughtful. The 4 hour meeting ended with, yet again, the feeling that the conversation is just beginning.

Later this week, I will be attending the third meeting of the women of Combatants for Peace--a side-project of the organization, and I've been invited to participate. A group of Israeli women and Palestinian women, all members of Combatants for Peace, are meeting to discuss how to insert women's voices into the larger conversations in the organization as a whole and how to create protest actions that more women would be enticed and able to participate in. The conversations are authentic and are questioning how to accommodate a gendered perspective in the very important dialogue work and on the ground activism of Combatants for Peace. Our first meeting was invigorating, and this one should be equally exciting.

Today is international peace day. But, I dedicate this week to women: the rabble rousers, the ground-shakers, the wagers of conflict, and the peace makers.

Palestine Museum of Natural History / July 27, 2016 by Sophie Schor

The home I grew up in was 6 blocks away from the Denver Museum of Natural History and so we visited weekly. I memorized the opening movie at the dinosaur exhibit by heart and I took morbid pleasure at looking at the cautionary-tale-blackened smoker’s lungs in the Hall of Life. The mummy corridor was my area of expertise; I learned to spell my name in hieroglyphics. I learned the behind the scenes secrets (For example, to change the lightbulb in the exhibit of the African watering hole, the museum janitors wore special boots that made animal footprints in the sand) and knew the difference between real gold and fool’s gold thanks to the gemstone exhibit that displays Colorado’s mining history. I know where all of the secret, painted gnomes are located in the taxidermy exhibits displaying local Colorado flora and fauna. The museum was my playground and a formative place of exploration, education, imagination, and discovery for me.

It was with this childish excitement in the back of my mind that I joined a group to visit the Palestine Museum of Natural History in Bethlehem. This museum is only one room; it doesn’t have any flashing multimedia explanations or gift shop. But it has heart.

I read about the museum a few years ago in a fantastic piece in Brownbook, but I hadn’t thought of visiting it until an invitation from the Israeli activist group De-colonizer arrived in my inbox. I excitedly RSVPed to join the carpool to Bethlehem and cross the borders with a group of over 20 Israelis and internationals—a moment of civil disobedience for many Israelis who are prohibited from legally entering Bethlehem (Area A). You can see more photos from the day here.

On a Saturday morning, a caravan of Israeli cars made a sharp turn down a steep hill and there at the bottom was a man waving. Narrow faced, sharp cheekbones, his checkered shirt tucked into blue pants, smiling eyes, Dr. Mazin Qumsiyeh greeted us warmly and led us into the air conditioned building.

The museum was founded 2 years ago by Mazin and his wife. A native of Beit Sahour, a Palestinian town next to Bethlehem, Mazin is a remarkable man. An accomplished biologist, educator, and activist, Mazin returned to Palestine after teaching for many years at Duke and Yale in the United States. He raises his eyebrows over his skinny framed glasses and smiles at the group "Ahlan wa-Sahlan, welcome, welcome." He is humble in his speech, but his ideas and his actions speak louder than his words. He has written several books about the biodiversity of the region including The Bats of Egypt (1985) and Mammals of the Holy Land (1996). He also wrote an in-depth analytical history of Palestinian non-violent resistance, and yet another book called Sharing the Land of Canaan. He has published many scientific articles in reviewed journals—several focus on the impact of occupation on biodiversity and ecosystems of Palestine. He has been arrested several times for engaging in protests, activism, and non-violent actions including riding the Freedom Bus. He mentions all of this casually as he introduces himself to the group. After making a grand political statement about justice or mentioning that he was at a pivotal event in Palestinian resistance history, he quickly shrugs his shoulders and remarks in a self-deprecating tone, “But anyways…”

"The museum was founded on the tenant of respect," explains Mazin. "Self-Respect, Respect for others, and Respect for nature." He goes on to explain how the Palestinian community needs "a revolution in our way of thinking" and the museum aims to create a space for this change. "The wall is nothing if the people put it in their mind to remove it. We tend to hang everything on occupation. Yes, it is a part of it, but we are also a part of it. Change has to start with our own actions."

A teacher at heart, Mazin is currently a professor at Bethlehem and Birzeit Universitites. The Museum serves as a center for internships, research, and volunteer opportunities for his students. They have established a research lab and he works closely with students to do research and co-publish papers.

One of his students led us on a tour of the surrounding grounds—a large part of the Museum project has been to develop the land around the Bethlehem University campus. Mazin and his volunteers have been planting a botanic garden of native species to the region. Olive trees, fruit trees, sage, thyme, and zatar, each plant will be labeled with its Latin name, and the local names from several different Palestinian dialects. There was an area for beekeeping, and a building for rehabilitating wild birds. The student led us around a bend and there was a small pond which the group had been meticulously cultivating to create a diverse ecosystem of frogs, algae, and plants and had begun to attract kingfishers and foxes. Flanking the pond were several greenhouses--we entered and I was overjoyed to see fully functioning aquaponic systems! Having worked for a summer at The GrowHaus in Denver, it was a familiar sight to see fish swimming in a pool of water next to flourishing plants. The water from the fish is used to water the plants (full of nutrients from the fish's excrement)—the plants then clean the water (nitrogen rich water makes for happy plants)—the clean water is returned to the fish tank. Since the plants are planted in a bed of porous rocks, it is a more efficient way to water them and they grow quicker because they are directly exposed to the water and nutrients. The cycle is a beautiful manifestation of using what you have.

Hot and sweaty, we were then led through the exhibition room. We pressed our noses to glass cases and looked upon the pinned butterflies, the classified snail shells, the rocks and gemstones, the stuffed birds. There was pride in the labels: Snails of Palestine. Butterflies of Palestine. Scorpions of Palestine. I began thinking about the emotional importance of naming and claiming things. Especially here in a place where existence is a constant competition and narratives are erased, replaced, and proclaimed loudly through shouting matches. This room was a quieter, but definitive stake of ownership, history, and a nexus of knowledge.

We returned to a classroom and Mazin launched into a clear, succinct analysis of the Israeli and Palestinian conflicts. "Let me share with you my view of the world. You can disagree."

He began in a way that was reminiscent of that introduction to the dinosaur exhibit back in Denver, "The universe is very large, we are but a tiny blue dot in the Milky-Way." He then specified, "And this region is but a tiny corner on that tiny dot. Our conflict is but a tiny blip in the history of existence. We are small," he continued, "Yet we seem to think that we are special." After tracing the arc of civilizations in the Fertile Crescent, he arrived at modern day Israel and Palestine. "Conflicts arise when there are attempts to force one idea on people."

Collection of local turtle shells: visitors to the pond

He confided in us that he is not a nationalist; he is a humanist, a biologist. The problems facing Israelis and Palestinians are not Israeli problems or Palestinian problems, they are human problems. This is not to say that he is not political and does not support Palestinian national self-determination. Mazin clearly upholds the BDS boycott and refuses to work with Israeli institutions (he does not mind personal relationships with Israeli individuals, but he follows the lines stipulated by the BDS movement). And here he was, speaking to a room full of Israelis. To explain this differentiation, he tells the story of how his family lived on the Jordanian side of the border after 1948. The 1967 war rolls around, the borders shift, and a few days later there is a knock at the door. An older man, a Jew, asks for Mazin’s grandfather. The moment they see each other they begin hugging. The two had been best friends before 1948 and had not seen each other for 19 years. “But anyways…” He continues on with his lecture and the next slide about the water crisis in the Jordan Valley and describes bringing the museum to children in poor areas or unrecognized villages in Area C so that they too could learn about butterflies.

Mazin repeated again and again the importance of biodiversity: both in relation to the natural and human worlds. “A monolithic biosphere is not healthy. Neither is a monolithic society. Diversity is strength.” He launches into a metaphor about a garden of only blue flowers and how boring that would be. "Would you want to live with people only like yourself?" He chuckles, "Hell, I can't live with only myself."

By encouraging science education and environmentalism, Mazin believes that humanism will follow as a side effect. The museum serves as a place to educate and allow students and communities to engage in a way that restores personal and communal dignity. “The way I see it, he concluded, “This museum is resistance.”

I haven't been this excited about a project or an individual in a long time. Please consider donating to keep the Museum going and to help them in their efforts to expand. They also have many volunteer opportunities (here's looking at all my permaculture and sustainable agriculture friends!) To learn more about the museum, visit their website here.

Up and Up: Haifa / November 9, 2015 by Sophie Schor

I spent the day walking up flights of stairs in Haifa.

After glancing at the map and seeing that it was only a 30-minute walk to my destination, I told myself that I was up for the adventure. But as the hill kept getting steeper, I felt more like someone climbing the mountain in order to learn the meaning of life from a monk; I was not disappointed.

I met today with an amazing woman at the Haifa Women's Coalition Center, the building that several feminist organizations call home. Sarai Aharoni had become my “academic crush” while I researching women’s peace and feminist movements in Israel. Aharoni has written a lot on feminism, women, peace and security, and the Palestinian-Israeli conflict. She put into words perfectly my discomfort with the academic boycott of Israel (read it here). To my pleasure, she responded to an email I had sent and invited me to Haifa to visit her and peruse the Women and Peace archives. It was a treat. She's part of the group that is establishing the Haifa Feminist Institute--giving an "official name," she explained to me, to something that already exists.

The center is home to organizations Kayan and Isha L'Isha, two of the most interesting feminist groups in Israel and Palestine. Isha L’Isha is one of the first feminist grassroots organizations and was founded in 1983. Kayan emerged from conversations amongst women in Isha L'Isha and is the Arab Feminist Center in the North working for equality of Palestinian women in Israel. The two organizations pursue many different activities, educational projects, and initiatives to promote women’s rights, women status, and women’s equality in Israel and Palestine. The Coalition is special because it is a space where Jewish and Arab women work together under one roof supporting women and victims of sexual abuse and domestic violence.

So here I was, sitting in this space that has been created for women by women and sharing methodological challenges of feminist theories with this brilliant woman sitting across from me surrounded by books and archives, an academic-dream-come-true.

Me excited to ride the funicular. Public transportation is fun(icular)!

Haifa is a fascinating city in the North and one that I have not explored enough. It extends all the way to the seacoast and then the city rises up to the hills and the Carmel Mountain. I left the meeting and wandered around the rest of the day, heading to destinations that my friends had recommended to me. I stumbled upon a café where the waiter was originally from Lebanon and settled myself into a corner: cozy and happy with my laptop and my work. It is what is called a “mixed” city, one that has a vibrant Jewish and Arab population. As I sat in the café, I felt like I could breathe deeply. People were just living and being people here. It didn’t matter what your ethnicity was, where your allegiances lie, or where you were from originally. This may be too idealistic and just all assumptions and superficial judgments. It is definitely a city that I want to know better. My mom lived in Haifa for a stint when she lived in Israel and as I was trekking up and down the stairs and venturing out to find the funicular (called the Carmelite!), I felt strangely at peace with my life. That feeling that I am exactly where I am supposed to be right now.

Update from Israel and Palestine: attacks inside Israeli borders have slowed down with the arrival of the rainstorm and winter .Yet things sound far from calm within the West Bank, a young soldier, who was stabbed at a famously tense junction (Tzomat Tapuah) in the territories, died today. Six other Israelis were injured in other attacks in the West Bank in the last several days including a particularly nasty drive-by. Settlers supposedly opened fire on farmers near Nablus. Soldiers killed a 72-year-old Palestinian woman after an alleged car attack. Clashes have erupted near Ramallah, protests in Gaza continue, shots are fired, people are dying, and from the perspective of Tel Aviv it feels like it’s being swept under a rug.

As Aharoni and I were talking today, a question left unanswered is haunting me. War and violence can be used as a catalyst to transform a society (with negotiations and compromise on the other side of the spectrum). The question facing us now: how much more violence is necessary to transform this one?