Category Archives: Coexistence

Peace Kawomera in Action

We’ve learned a great deal about how coffee is grown and processed on this trip and one of the most indelible lessons we’ve taken away is how interconnected and interdependent each step is to the next. Unlike the major commercial producers, rural coffee farmers like those of the Peace Kawomera coop must depend upon one another to succeed. In other words (to adapt an oft-repeated axiom) it really does take a community to produce a cup of coffee. As I wrote in my earlier post, we did a bit of harvesting at JJ Keki’s coffee farm this past Sunday. We subsequently learned about the complex journey taken by the coffee berries once there are picked.

The first step – and in some ways the most crucial – is called “pulping.” This refers to the husking of the outer red shell of the coffee berry. For quality purposes, pulping must take place 24 hours or less after the coffee is picked. Like most rural farmers, the members of Peace Kawomera have been pulping their coffee by hand, with a manual turn-crank machine.

The pix below were taken at the farm of a coop member named Mohammed – the harvested berries are poured in the top, the crank is turned, and the inner white beans come out the bottom. The leftover red husks are then taken and mixed with manure to be used as organic fertilizer.

I mentioned in my earlier post that Peace Kawomera has recently been able to obtain a large, motorized machine to serve as the central pulper for the entire coop. Since every individual farmer does not own a own hand pulper, the coop leadership hopes that this acquisition will help the farmers expedite this critical initial process. The new pulper is an impressive and complex piece of machinery and has the capability of pulping 5000 five kilos a day. It runs on diesel fuel and requires water is pumped in from a nearby stream. It coop farmers will begin using the central pulper in August, as the coffee harvest goes into full swing

After pulping, the coffee beans are fermented and dried by the farmers themselves. They are then transported to Gumutindo, the location of a larger coop to which ten other farming coops also belong. This is where the coffee is warehoused and eventually inspected with the defective beans sorted out. The remaining beans are then milled in a huge machine (a process in which the thin inner skin is husked from the beans) before they are sampled for final quality control. The pix below show the various step of this process, from warehousing and milling to sample roasting and tasting.

After lunch we attended a gathering of Peace Kawomera farmers who were attending a tutorial on organic farming by agriculturist John Bosco (pix below). The interplay was fascinating and impressive. The level of commitment of the farmers to their work – as well as their desire to learn and succeed – runs quite deep.

For our final meeting of the day, we met with the board of Peace Kawomera (below). If we learned annything with our soujourn with the coop, it was how deeply these farmers are committed to one another and their community. Coffee farming can only succeed with in a powerful subsystem of relationships and social connections. For the members of Peace Kawomera, their devotion to interfaith cooperation and sustainable development is no less powerful. We are bringing home so many profound lessons as a result of our soujourn in Uganda.

One more post to go. I’ll report on a visit to two primary schools supported by the coop and offer some final thoughts.

On Coffee and Coexistence

That man in the picture above is JJ Keki – Ugandan farmer, musician, fair trade entrepreneur, local politician and interfaith activist (I’m sure I’m missing several more job descriptions…) JRC has gotten to know JJ well over the years through our our relationship to the Peace Kawomera interfaith fair trade coffee cooperative. JJ (a Ugandan Jew) is a co-founder of the coop along with Elias Hasulube (with JJ below) a Muslim farmer. The coop includes the participation of 705 Ugandan Jewish, Muslim and Christian farmers – and is an unprecedented example of interfaith cooperation in support of fair trade and sustainable development.

On Friday morning our group split up once again: the medical providers volunteered at the FDNC clinic and the rest of us spent our day with the folks from Peace Kawomera. We met first at the coop office (located in the Namayonyi Sub-County) with Elias, who serves as their fair trade and organic certification expert, and their financial secretary Kakaire Hatube. Joining us as well was John Bosco Birenge, and agriculturist who was recently hired by the coop to help the farmers with organic farming skills.

The governance of the coop board is guided by impressively democratic standards. The board has seven members, which must include Muslim, Jewish and Christian reps. The farmers themselves directly elect the board and chairpeople, and the bylaws require that there be an equal number of women, youth and elders represented. Their adherence to organic and shade grown agriculture as well as fair trade/sustainable development values is equally as strong. This is clearly a farming community that cares deeply about the principles by which they work and live. (Below: some JRCers outside the coop office)

After meeting with the coop staff, we took a short ride out to JJ’s home, where he gave us a personal tour of his coffee farm. Coffee growing is a difficult and fragile art form: it takes the plant three full years to grow from planting to harvest and any number of factors can compromise the quality of the beans along the way. Last year, in fact, the coop sustained a net financial loss because of heavy rains (as well as the fluctuation of the American dollar). Agriculturist John Bosco was hired by the coop largely for this reason: to help the farmers with important tips on how to improve their quality and yield.

JJ’s farm is set on the slope of a lush, gorgeous Ugandan hillside The farm includes a variety of crops: along the way we saw the coffee plants nestled among guava, papaya, banana, avocado, casava and much more. JJ commented that this is why he believes coffee promotes peace: because it thrives best when it coexists next to other kinds of plants. (The picture below shows a coffee plant coexisting with a banana tree).

I’ve written extensively about Mirembe on this blog – largely because I have just been so inspired by the example they set for us. I truly believe that the folks at this modest coop in Uganda are, in their way, showing the rest of the world how to live. If you are a coffee drinker, I encourage you to support their efforts – Miremebe Kawomera is roasted, distributed and marketed by Thanksgiving Coffee and for every bag they sell, one dollar goes back to the coop. Moreover, the coop’s fair trade social premiums support their community development efforts (which includes the Nankusi Primary School that we will visit on Monday).

We’re going to return to JJ’s farm on Sunday to pick coffee – but in the meantime, we were able to do our part by donating a new laptop to the coop. Up until now, they have kept their financials on a hand-written ledger. In the pic below you can see JRC members Rich Katz and Beth Lange giving Kakaire and John Bosco a tutorial on Excel spreadsheets. We all hope this will provide a much-needed boost to their office support.

In keeping with the spirit of interfaith coexistence, we visited the nearby Nankusi Mosque for Sabbath services after lunch. We were received by the Muslim community with incredible graciousness; we brought them welcome and blessings from the Jewish community and I offered a brief D’var Torah for the occasion. Afterwards, virtually every member of the community came up to us, shook our hands, and wished us “Salaam Aleikum.” (The pic below shows Hannah Gelder with Elaine and Kelsey Waxman outfitted in their hijabs for the occasion).

We’ll be attending the Abayudayah Ugandan Jewish community for Shabbat morning services on Saturday as well as a local Anglican Christian Church this Sunday. (I like to call this the Interfaith Sabbath Hat Trick…)

Sulha Peace Project

If you’ve read this blog for any length of time then you know I like to spotlight important and courageous coexistence efforts in Israel/Palestine. Here’s another I recommend adding to your list of orgs to support: the Sulha Peace Project.

Founded by an Israeli, Gabriel Meyer, and a Palestinian, Elias Jabbour, Sulha sponsors a variety of impressive coexistence initiatives. Their signature program is their annual Sulha gathering, a three day event which brings together people of all ages and backgrounds to learn from one another, share each other’s cultural stories and experiences, and ultimately, to celebrate peace and reconciliation. Sulha participants represent a wide spectrum of individuals: women and men, children and adults; Muslims, Christians, Jews, Druze, Bedouin and Palestinians, both secular and religious.

The word “Sulha” is an Arabic term that refers to a traditional Islamic form of third-party conflict mediation. According to this tradition, clans involved in a dispute will sit down opposite one another with a mediator and arrive at a mutually acceptable compromise. (Notably enough, the three-letter root of sulha, S”L”H, comes from the same root as the Hebrew word that means “to forgive.”)

The next Sulha Gathering will be taking place August 26-28 at the Latrun Monastery. If you plan to be in Israel, I strongly encourage you to check it out. (In the meantime, here’s a great panoramic shot of the 2004 Gathering.)

Face 2 Face

From this week’s Torah portion, Parashat Naso:

May God’s face rise up to greet you and bestow peace upon you. (Numbers 6:26)

When does God’s face rise to greet us? When we find the wherewithal to turn our faces to one another.

Click on the clip above to see a demonstration of this principle in action. Visit the Face 2 Face website to learn more.

Living With Two Narratives

Last week, JRC hosted a visit from journalist Sandy Tolan (above) and nearly 250 people came out on a Sunday evening to hear him speak. Tolan is the author of the “The Lemon Tree” (a book I’ve written about previously and recommend to just about anyone who will listen). It’s the powerful story of two individuals: a Palestinian man named Bashir Khairi and an Israeli woman, Dahila Eshkenazi. Bashir’s family built a house in al-Ramle, Palestine and were among the Palestinians who were expelled from that town by the Israeli military in 1948. Dahlia’s family were Holocaust refugees from Bulgaria who moved into the house (in what is now the Israeli city of Ramle) immediately after the war.

“The Lemon Tree” documents the unlikely encounter and growing friendship between Bashir and Dahlia. Tolan does a masterful job of placing this compelling narrative amidst the a masterfully researched historical presentation of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict from 1948 to present day. The wonder of this book is that it succeeds brilliantly both as a story about two remarkable individuals and as a nuanced historical analysis of notoriously complex subject.

Indeed, there are precious few accounts of this issue that manage to honor both the Israeli and Palestinian experiences with such sensitivity. We know of course that there are two distinctly different narratives of the events of 1948 – for the Israelis it marks their War of Independence, for the Palestinians, it is referred to as “al-Nakhba” (“The Catastrophe”). Books such as “The Lemon Tree” are so very essential because they allow us to hold both narratives before us, without attempting to negate the other side or sugar coat the differences. I believe that living with these kinds of contradictions is a difficult but necessary first step toward reconciliation and (dare I suggest it?) the eventual merging of these two narratives into one.

During our congregational trip to Israel this past summer, we visited Bashir and Dahlia’s house, which now is now home to an Israeli Arab nursery school and and co-existence programming for Arab and Israeli youth. The members of our trip were so inspired by the experience that they organized our evening with Sandy Tolan as a benefit for “The Open House.” It was heartening indeed to see so many people come out to hear this important story and support the cause of coexistence.

(Thanks to JRC member Jerome Bloom for providing the gorgeous pic of Tolan above. As you can see, the trees outside our east wall window are currently exploding into full bloom…)

Mark the 60th – Plant Justice

During this past week, Israel and Jews around the world celebrated its 60th birthday while Palestinians commemorate the 60th anniversary of the Nakhba (the “catastrophe).”  A complicated anniversary to say the least: for Israelis Yom Ha’atzmaut marks the moment of their liberation; for Palestinians, it represents the commencement of their exile from their land. How on earth can we reconcile such a profoundly contradictory milestone?

A verse from this week’s Torah portion, Parashat Emor, might be instructive:

You shall further instruct the Israelites to bring you clear oil of beaten olives for lighting, for kindling lamps regularly — Leviticus 27:20

As we generally tend to regard the olive as a symbol of peace and tranquility, it is rather jarring to read that only “beaten olives” were considered fit for lighting the lamps in the Tent of Meeting. Rashi points out that this Hebrew term, “shemen zayit zach katit” refers to olive oil that was obtained from the first pressing, which yields the purest form of the oil and is free of external ingredients. (Even today, the term “first cold press” designates the purest form of extra-virgin olive oil).

Perhaps we can take our cue from Rashi’s insight that from oppression can come purity. Perhaps the best way to rise above the cognitive dissonance of Yom Ha’atzmaut/Al Nakhba  is to support and celebrate the instances in which both peoples are rising above the intractability of the conflict to promote coexistence in their land.

In this regard, I commend to you “Planting Justice: Two Trees Initiative,” a new campaign sponsored by Rabbis for Human Rights – North America that will support the re-planting of olive trees in the West Bank as well as in impoverished Jewish neighborhoods in Israel. I’d like to suggest that efforts such as these offer us all a more fitting way to commemorate this painfully complex anniversary – by helping to pursue the dream of justice for Jew and Arab alike and to the nurture the possibility of peace and reconciliation.

(I’m thrilled to say I am currently joining the national board of Rabbis for Human Rights – North America – an organization whose work I have long admired. I hope you will consider adding RHR-NA to your list of organizations eminently worthy of your support).

Abir’s Garden

Last year I posted a heartbreaking article by Bassam Aramin, a Palestinian whose 10 year old daughter Abir (right) was killed by a rubber bullet by Israeli border police in the West Bank town of Anata. Bassam is a co-founder of Combatants for Peace – an important coexistence organization made of former Israeli soldiers and Palestinian militants – and in his article, he eloquently wrote of his desire to channel his grief to pursue justice and peace, rather than revenge:

We know that to serve our people, we must fight not each other but the hatred between us. We must find a way to share this land each people holds in the depths of its soul, to build two states side by side. Only then will the mourning end.

I will not rest until the soldier responsible for my daughter’s death is put on trial, and made to face what he has done. I will see to it that the world does not forget my daughter, my lovely Abir.

But I will not seek vengeance. No, I will continue the work I have undertaken with my Israeli brothers. I will fight with all I have within me to see that Abir’s name, Abir’s blood, becomes the bridge that finally closes the gap between us, the bridge that allows Israelis and Palestinians to finally, inshallah, live in peace.

If I could tell my daughter anything, I would make her that promise. And I would tell her that I love her very, very much.

An update: this past February, members of Combatants for Peace held a memorial service for Abir and dedicated Abir’s Garden – a playground at the Anata School for Girls. The project is being sponsored by the Rebuilding Alliance, an NGO that rebuilds homes and communities in areas of war and occupation.

At the the Abir’s Garden website, you can find out how to donate olive and fruit trees and paving stones for the playground. There is also information on how you can advocate for justice in the case of Abir’s killing, which has been officially closed by the Israeli authorities.

Of this latest effort, Bassam writes the following:

I’m not going to lose my common sense, my direction, only because I’ve lost my heart, my child. I will do all I can to protect her friends, both Palestinian and Israeli. They are all our children.

Blogging for Peace in Gaza and Sderot

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The tragic escalation of violence between Israel and Gaza has left over one hundred dead in its wake and has dealt a serious blow to current prospects for peace, but amidst this increasingly dismal news here’s one tiny gesture of hope: an online conversation between an Israeli blogger from Sderot and a Palestinian blogger from Gaza.

Apparently this project was born out of a dialogue group of Palestinian Gazans and Israeli residents of Sderot. According to Danny Gal, one of the dialogue’s organizers, the group fell apart when the Palestinian participants were no longer allowed to leave Gaza. So the dialogue continued online.

The shared blog is written by “Peace Man” (the Gazan) and “Hope Man” (from Sderot). Though their specific identities are kept anonymous, Gal says Peace Man is a man in his 30s who lives in the Sajaia refugee camp and worked as a teacher until they closed his school. Hope Man is an Israeli in his 40s who lives in Sderot and owns his own high-tech business. Most of the posts describe vividly the everyday life under fire in the two communities. More recently, the two bloggers unveiled a petition calling on their respective governments to institute a one month cease fire:

We, citizens of Gaza, Sderot and people all over the world desperately call on you, our leaders and decision makers, to completely cease fire immediately. Both sides are in a dead lock and One Month will give all parties an opportunity to rethink their policy and to find new paths out of this senseless and hopeless reality.

In the face of such an overwhelming and intractable conflict, it is easy to be cynical about a modest effort such as this, still, we must seek hope wherever it leads us – and I am personally heartened by the spirit of peace and coexistence it conveys. Click here for a Ha’aretz feature on the history of the project. To read the English language version of the blog, click here.

Galilee Encounter

Yet another coexistence effort worth supporting is the Galilee Encounter Community – an interfaith exchange project that brings together students, educators and parents from Israeli schools in the Jewish town of Karmiel and the Arab village of Majd el-Krum.

This group started as a result of the deterioration of the relations between the two neighboring communities after the Second Intifada in 2000. The principals of the two main schools in the two towns decided to act in order to restore good relations. They started by facilitating meetings between a core group of ten teachers from each of the schools, and subsequently included the children, instituting joint study, visits to each other’s homes and places of worship, and eventually to larger-scale events. Parents were also drawn into the project and today the group includes approximately 800 children and 200 adults in its activities.

The Galilee Encounter Community is a project of the Interfaith Encounter Association, a wonderful organization that seeks to promote coexistence in the Middle East through cross-cultural study and inter-religious dialogue. Click on the clip above for a great documentary on the Galilee project and here if you’d like to contribute to their effort.

Wading Through the Waters

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From this week’s Torah portion, Parashat Beshallach:

And the children of Israel went into the midst of the sea upon dry ground, and the waters formed a wall to them on their right hand and on their left. (Exodus 14:22)

I’ve always been struck by the dramatic, almost fearful description of the parting of the waters. It’s often seemed to me that the Israelites’ song is as much a song of terror as much as it is a song of joy and liberation. It’s an apt image, I think: the Israelites head toward their liberation with two fragile walls of water on their left and their right, threatening to obliterate them at any moment as they pass between.

Finding your way to liberation and peace is indeed a terrifying business. It means wading into powerful waters that rise before you while simultaneously threatening to submerge you on either side. I’m sure there are many who would simply prefer to stay turn back at various points along the way – or not to wade in at all. In so many ways, this story is about facing the terror of the narrow path through the waters, but finding the wherewithal to move forward nevertheless because the alternative (i.e., remaining in place or turning back) is even more terrifying to contemplate.

This past week, as my Meretz-Brit Tzedek V’Shalom Symposium visited with Israeli and Palestinian activists, leaders, politicians, and ordinary citizens, so devoted the cause of peace, I have been mindful of how fragile and discouraging this work so often feels. Indeed, I know how tempting it can be to surrender to this discouragement, to give in to the the fatigue: “We’ve tried and failed” “It’s too late.” “Peace between Jews and Palestinians can never truly happen.”

It is clear to me that for most Israelis and Palestinians, this fearful voice comes from a collective sense of ongoing trauma. During the week of our visit, hundreds of Kassam rockets rained down daily on and around the Israeli town Sderot -and Israel responded with deadly military incursions in Gaza. I spoke with Israeli friends who told me with great emotion that life in Sderot and the surrounding area is absolutely unbearable. As I traveled through Ramallah, I saw Palestinian flags flying at half mast for the Gaza dead.

As the cycle of violence continued however, we met and spoke with inspired individuals who worked tirelessly for peace for their respective peoples. Yes. we were told repeatedly by many experts that moderates on both sides are simply growing tired and less sure that peace will ever be possible. But we know first-hand that there are also many who defy the fear and press on for peace in Israel/Palestine, knowing that discouragement is simply a luxury they cannot afford.

Of course I realize that walking the path of peace will require complex and often painful decisions, but after my experiences of this week, I am even more convinced of this: two states for two peoples is simply the only way out, and we must support the efforts of those working toward this end with everything we have. Accepting an untenable status quo, or going back the way we came are simply not options. The way through the waters is not easy or comfortable, but as ever, there is still only one way forward.

Shalom/Salaam from Jerusalem…