In the Name of Security

Until recently, I had never paid attention to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, feeling that it was too far removed from my own life for any interest.

My opinions changed when I traveled to Israel a little over a month ago. The trip was quite spontaneous; I was in Cairo and decided to explore more of the Middle East, so I hopped on a bus that traveled to Jerusalem. When I arrived at the border of Egypt and Israel, the Israeli border authorities glanced only at my hijab and pulled me aside for interrogation. I had vaguely heard of Palestinians being subjected to harassment and humiliation at checkpoints between Palestine and Israel, but I mistakenly believed myself, as an American citizen, to be immune to this kind of treatment. That day, for the first time, I understood how ordinary Palestinians must feel, as I was interrogated three times, endured a humiliating strip search, and waited at the border for nearly six hours before being allowed entry into Israel. I entered the country with my previously blasé attitude completely shattered.

I fell in love with Jerusalem’s Old City, the historic part of the city that dated to medieval times. Church spires, synagogues, and minarets towered over the skyline in the city, crowded together in forced harmony. The reality on the streets belied this skyline of unity: the historic city was quartered into separate sections for Jews, Christians, Muslims, and Armenians. Israeli soldiers patrolled the winding streets in pairs, automatics in hand. They could ask anyone to show their identity cards, and I saw soldiers, some of them as young as eighteen, cornering Muslim men who were passing through the streets for proof that they lived in Jerusalem.

To visit the major religious sites in the Old City, one had to proceed through checkpoints. When I walked to the Western Wall, I passed through a metal detector and was cleared to continue, but my entry into al-Aqsa proved to be a more complicated matter.

I strolled to the al-Aqsa complex, where the Dome of the Rock and the Al-Aqsa Mosque are located, and saw two soldiers sitting at the entrance. I pulled out my American passport, and they closely inspected it, but even then I was not allowed to enter. One of the soldiers ordered me to recite the Fatiha. I stared at him, shocked.

“Why?!” I spluttered. It was obvious that I was Muslim, but he offered me no reason, just returned my stare and repeated his order. “Are you Muslim? Will you even understand whether I’m saying the Fatiha correctly or not?” I questioned.

“I’m not Muslim,” he responded. “But that doesn’t matter. This is for security purposes.”

So, on a side street in Jerusalem, I recited the opening Surah of the Quran to prove my faith. And at this same moment, I realized that in the name of security, everything was legitimate. Interrogations, checking identity cards, and challenging people’s faith had become accepted facts in Israel. They were somehow “necessary” to eliminate risks for the Israeli state and people, and all these measures were targeted at Muslims. The actions of a few were conflated with all; apparently, behind every beard and underneath every hijab lurked a potential terrorist. Mistrust and suspicion fed religious tension and pushed the Israeli government to provide justifications for unjustifiable acts.

Indeed, the prime example of a security measure that spawned something far more nefarious is the imposing concrete Wall that separates Israel and Palestine, supposedly for the protection of Israel against Palestinian terrorists. The Wall can be seen from the highest points in Jerusalem, jutting out from the land that people have died to claim. It snakes down the border between Israel and Palestine, separating farmers from their fields, dividing former neighbors into two different territories, slowing down the transportation of medicine and essential items into Palestine, and isolating the West Bank from the rest of the world. In the name of security, Israel has appropriated fifteen percent of the Palestinians’ land through the construction of the Wall. In the name of security, the Wall is punctuated by checkpoints through which the Palestinians can never exit without an Israeli permit. In the name of security, the Israeli government violates a person’s most basic right: the right to freedom.

The Israelis do face a threat in the form of suicide bombers who target innocent people and whose actions are completely unIslamic and should be condemned by the Muslim world. Yet, security can be enforced without treating an entire segment of the population living in Israel as a security threat and without cordoning off Palestine to much-needed aid.

However, we, the Muslims, are part of the problem, too. Instead of spouting rhetoric, we should unite and peacefully demand that the Israeli government change its policies. We should write letters to Congress, attend rallies, and educate ourselves and others about this issue. Most importantly, we should remember that in a global world, connections are never tenuous and that we all share a collective responsibility.