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JAFFA AND THE OTHER ISRAEL

THE ONE WITH ARABS IN IT | November 27th 2007

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Adam LeBor finds that his new book about Jaffa is being well received by almost everyone except the Israeli consulate and the Anti-Defamation League. A pity about that sub-title ...

Special to MORE INTELLIGENT LIFE

I was pleasantly surprised that the young official at the Anti-Defamation League in New York was so enthusiastic about "City of Oranges", my book on Jaffa. "We can send you around the country to speak to students," she said, "where do you want to go?" "Anywhere", I replied. "Would you even go to.....Kansas?", she asked. "Yes", I said. Like Dorothy in the "Wizard of Oz", I would even go to Kansas.

But there was to be no yellow brick road, only silence. Telephone calls were not returned, e-mails went unanswered. I did not go to Kansas or anywhere else with the ADL. I had a similar experience at the Israeli consulate in New York. An enthusiastic meeting with a press officer, promises of future contacts, and then, nothing.

I think they, or their bosses, must have actually read the book. "City of Oranges" recounts the true life-stories of six families in Jaffa, three Jewish and three Arab. It has been acclaimed for its even handedness, and is probably the only book to have been praised by both the Jewish Chronicle and the Saudi daily Ash-Sharq Al-Awsat.

The problem was, I quickly realised, the "A"-word: "Arabs". The subtitle of the American edition is, "An Intimate History of Arabs and Jews in Jaffa". In the end, I organised my own book tour, with help from my publishers, WW Norton, numerous friends at universities, and more liberal Jewish institutions.

One of the highlights was a dramatised reading at Symphony Space in New York, as part of the "Other Israel" film festival. Actors read from the book, interspersed with a conversation between me and Isaiah Sheffer, the venue's artistic director. It is a rare and powerful experience for a writer to hear your words declaimed to an audience, and see how they capture the listeners, pulling them into the story.

The "Other Israel" film festival was dedicated to films about the lives of Arab citizens of Israel. It was supported by the Jewish community centre in Manhattan, a voice of moderation among more conservative Jewish organisations, many of whom were unhappy about the festival. So much so, according to one insider, that several big-wigs called the Israeli consulate to demand it boycott the festival. They were partially successful. The consulate refused to officially support the festival, although it publicised the films and several diplomats attended events.

I asked David Saranga, media and public affairs consul, why the consulate did not do more to promote what was, after all, a purely Israeli film festival. The problem, he said, was the festival's title, "Other Israel", which implied some other entity.

Such sophistry is both bemusing and depressing. The "Other Israel" film festival was not about Palestinians beyond the borders, or refugee camps, or terrorists, or wars, or claims of dispossession and expulsion. It was about the 20% of Israeli citizens who happen to be Muslim and Christian Arabs. Their stories demand to be heard.

As my friend Aref Dajani argues, any resolution to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict must begin with validation. That does not demand agreement with, or even understanding of, the other side—only the recognition that both Israelis and Palestinians have a right to their feelings and beliefs, however much they may disagree with each other.

Aref is a scion of an ancient Jaffan family, the Dajanis, who once owned extensive orange groves in their village, Bayt Dajan, just outside Jaffa. Bayt Dajan is mentioned in the Old Testament. By the 1940s it was a thriving agricultural settlement and boasted two elementary schools. The Dajanis also built a hospital in Jaffa.

That rich, intricate society came to an end forever in April 1948, in the Israeli war of independence, which the Palestinians call Al-Nakba, the catastrophe. The Dajanis fled, or were expelled, depending on your choice of narrative.

I met Aref at Bus Boys and Poets, a bookshop in Shirlington, Virgina, which hosts regular peace cafés bringing together Arabs, Jews, anyone interested in dialogues rather than monologues. The owner, Andy Shallal, who was born in Iraq, works with Stephen Stern at the Jewish community centre in Washington, DC.

Aref read extracts from "City of Oranges", and I was touched to hear to hear a true son of Jaffa reading my words about his family's home city. Aref has never been to Israel, and told me of his nervousness about going there, and his fears that it would radicalise him.

Go, I told him. Go and see how Bayt Dajan has been renamed Beit Dagan in Hebrew, how the Dajani orange groves no longer exist, and your family's lands have been appropriated by the state. You will be angry, but that anger will pass.

And see also how the Dajani soap factory in Old Jaffa is now the Arab-Hebrew theatre, where Jews and Arabs put on joint productions in both languages, a microcosm of a possible future peace, a place to give space to one another's narratives without judging. And then come home to the United States. And we can talk some more, and maybe, one day, the ADL, the Israeli consulate and mainstream Jewish organisations will join us.