NEXT YEAR IN JERUSALEM: EVERYDAY LIFE IN A DIVIDED LAND
Reviewed by Sara Jackson (Nov/Dec 2005)

NEXT YEAR IN JERUSALEM: EVERYDAY LIFE IN A DIVIDED LAND
Daphna Golan-Agnon. Translated from the Hebrew by Janine Woolfson. 298 pages. New Press, New York, 2005.

As a little girl in 1967 Daphna Golan danced in the streets of Jerusalem as the Israeli army occupied the West Bank and Gaza Strip. Today, as the last Israeli troops have pulled out of Gaza, Daphna Golan-Agnon's memoir reminds us of the continued struggle against the occupation of the West Bank and an increasingly divided Jerusalem. Recently translated into English from Hebrew, Daphna's book takes us through her life in Jerusalem as a sociologist at Hebrew University and her work with organizations such as the human rights group B'Tselem and the feminist peace group Bat Shalom, both of which she co-founded. Her research on torture in the occupied territories and social inequalities in Israel-Palestine, as well as on apartheid in South Africa, has provided her with a wealth of material to draw on to weave into her personal story of overcoming self-doubt and denial to act against injustice.

Her memoir is a series of journal entries from 1999 to 2003, organized by theme rather than time, thereby creating a sense of cyclical time mirroring the cycles of violence in both Israeli and Palestinian societies. Daphna takes the reader into her confidence and shares some of her greatest fears and doubts about herself and her work. Not only does she write an account of her life and work, but also asks questions of herself and others about what kind of society allows torture, fear, and gross inequalities to flourish. Mother to the great-grandchildren of the famous Zionist author S.Y. Agnon (whose family she married into), she asks what Agnon would think of an Israel where fear of suicide bombers prevents her from such mundane activities as allowing her children to ride the bus.
Daphna tells of touring the sites of 1948 massacres with a group of mostly Jewish American students and a Palestinian guide. Learning about 1948 as a catastrophe rather than a victory, Daphna's students are angry at being confronted with "this reality that they had not known about before, which they did not necessarily want to know." The course she was teaching dealt with human rights, but she wonders whether what to the students was such an abstract idea can be applied universally and connected to lived experience. This question drives Daphna throughout the memoir as she reflects on her own actions and inactions in the Israel-Palestine peace movement.

To frame the challenges of fighting silences in Israeli society on issues such as torture and racism, Daphna draws on Stan Cohen's delineation of the three main stages of denial: 1) not knowing, 2) "we say that the situation is not quite as it seems, and even if it is, there is no other choice," 3) that there does not seem to be anything anyone can do about it-or apathy. These three stages can be seen throughout Daphna's analysis of her actions and those of the Israeli government. However, Daphna fears she is trapped in the third stage. "How can I convince others that they can make a difference if I am not always so sure myself?" So how does Daphna overcome her own denial and an apathy bred by the power of the Israeli state? Guiding the reader through meetings, family gatherings, classes, history and statistics, Daphna shows that change occurs through persistent questioning of details-by learning what those details are and trying to uncover the sources of injustice.

Language, Daphna argues, plays an important role in working towards peace and was the original inspiration for her memoir. Often she berates herself for not improving her Arabic as meetings are conducted in English or Hebrew for the benefit of Israeli activists. Her chapter on the future of Jerusalem is filled with power struggles between Palestinians, Israelis and the city over language use in brochures and titles, complicated by translations. While working at the Ministry of Education gathering statistics on education and discrimination, Daphna asks at board meetings "When we talk about our children? do we not include the Arab children?" (my emphasis). She also finds these barriers extended into her work, as language, communication, and distances constructed by checkpoints and citizenship impede activists on all sides from meeting with the frequency and ease necessary for a thriving peace movement.

The urgent need to pursue justice despite defeats is most clearly conveyed in Daphna's chapter on rebuilding a Palestinian home. B'Tselem helps rebuild Palestinian homes that have been torn down for building without a permit (almost impossible for Palestinians to obtain, Daphna tells us); the rebuilt homes will inevitably be destroyed again by Israeli bulldozers. Dapnha talks not so much about rebuilding, but about motivating herself to help out when it is hot and she would rather be at a museum. In this chapter I felt her appealing not only to Israelis, but to anyone-to overcome our apprehensions and grab our sunscreen and water bottle to do what we know is right. The museum can wait, she tells us.

Daphna's extensive documentation of human rights abuses is drawn from interviews, personal accounts, and court cases. However, what is in many ways most shocking are the parallels between the Israeli court's justifications for torture and official U.S. responses to the allegations of abuse in U.S. detention centres, particularly Guantánamo Bay in Cuba and Abu Ghraib in Iraq. The language of the Israeli government could be swapped almost verbatim for the language of the Bush Administration.

Women forging relationships across divides, particularly as mothers, is a theme that Daphna returns to frequently. After working with activists at the Women's Centre in Ramallah, Daphna is disheartened to find that the women-Palestinian and Israeli-never eat together. What does it mean for peace when "two sides" cannot share a meal without raising suspicions? It is only after countless letters and discussions that the women eat together at meetings as members of the organization. This Daphna sees as a great triumph in the "normalizing" of Palestinian-Israeli relations.

In a letter to Susan Sontag on the announcement of Sontag's being awarded the Jerusalem Prize, Daphna draws on the Hebrew definition of "prize" (women are referred to as the "bride of the prize") to ask Sontag a favour. She invites Sontag to visit and see the disunity, the inequalities of Jerusalem and to enter into this "marriage" only on condition that she confront the denial of Israelis. Although in her acceptance speech in Jerusalem Sontag criticized Israeli actions, she had a pithy response to those who asked her in essence to relay their messages to Jerusalem and the world.

At the end of a long series of questions, Daphna finds herself with few answers, only increasing evidence that she continues to use to challenge the denial she sees in herself and Israeli society. In the end she is not asking for peace so much as reconciliation, so that the wounds of both Palestinians and Israelis can finally heal. The end to apartheid in South Africa provides some hope as her work becomes more and more difficult as the Second Intifida rages and the "Generals" continue to dominate Israeli politics. She is also left with the painful private uncertainty of whether her daughter will disobey her wishes and join the army.

It is always the personal details that bring Next Year in Jerusalem to life. Daphna Golan-Agnon's power to persuade and persevere are driven by the seemingly innocuous details. There are always times when we don't want to do something, when we think that someone else will be there to do it, or when we are simply afraid to act for what might come afterwards. To read Daphna's story is to be inspired to overcome the apathy that stems from self-doubt, and to act.

SARA JACKSON lives in Vancouver and is a graduate student in the Department of Geography at the University of British Columbia

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