PALESTINE Memories of 1948 - Photographs of Jerusalem | Page 163

pained me. When I crossed the King Hussein Bridge
between Jordan and Palestine, controlled by the Israe-
lis, I had to fill out a form with my identity details, and
in the box for “Place of Birth” I wrote “Silwan, Pales-
tine”. Israel did not exist when I was born, the coun-
try was called Palestine. That annoyed the 18-year-old
Israeli soldier, who underlined it three times before I
passed through to the third control desk.
For most of the members of the mission, the ques-
tion of right of entry into Jerusalem was not an issue:
they had rented a car, and had gone there in the same
way that our family used to do before 1967. They did
not know that, for me, who was from Jerusalem, it
was much more complicated. 25 In the team there was
a young man in the same situation as me, a member of
the Budeiri family, well known in Jerusalem for the col-
lection of precious manuscripts in their library. 26 Once
the permits were obtained, we went with the group to
Al Aqsa, the third holy place of Islam. I had spent my
childhood there, yet here I was being checked by Israeli
soldiers to be allowed in. I was leaden-hearted because
of what I saw: young soldiers parading their guns as if
they were fashion items, strutting around the streets
of the Old City as if it belonged to them, the lack of
respect for the sacred places and so on. At the end of
the day, we went to the Holy Sepulchre, that sacred
place of Christianity, and we saw the young Muslim
man closing the heavy wooden door, as has been the
tradition for seven centuries. 27 But when one of my
cousins suggested showing me our Harat Al Ghul in
Silwan, I did not want to go. What is the use of going
to see land that settlers have appropriated without any-
one trying to stop them? What is the use of going to see
that they are excavating it and gutting it shamelessly
in order to rewrite history? 28 What is the use of letting
them see our pain and our tears? 
Pilgrimage to Nabi Musa, around 1920
Tamam
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