I am back from a
second journey to Israel – the previous one was in 2013. I would simply like to
share some images, without the slightest apologetic pretention. It was a two- phase
journey: a “traditional” pilgrimage week, with a group of Christians, followed
by four days with my Israeli cousins.
Jerusalem. The Old City,
buried under the weight of levels of history and religion. But it is a living
city, as well. Alleys, crowded with legions of tourists, Arabs wearing keffiyeh
or niqab, Jews with side curls, caftans and large hats, Ethiopian monks wearing
their long cassocks, yeshiva students with a black velvet yarmulke,
Franciscan priests in brown garb, policemen, soldiers, male and female, with a
gun on shoulder. People pass each other with little, if any, communication,
except for the merchants who badger you and extol their products.
The Christian Holy sites,
the Holy Sepulchre, the Basilica of the Nativity in Bethlehem, etc. The
swarming crowds and the surrounding din make any attempt for recollection a
vain pursuit. But there is a one notable exception, the Basilica of the Agony,
in Gethsemane, where an attentive Franciscan friar enforces the silence and
where the dimmed light, around the rock, is an invitation to prayer.
The landscapes of
Galilee, green and flowery, as spring arrives, evoke the settings of biblical
stories. Then there is the Sea of Tiberias and, in the distance, the Golan
Heights, which lead one to think of clearly less peaceful places…
Yes, the Kotel. To
those who persist in calling it "the Wailing Wall", I advise you to go
there on a Thursday morning. People gather there to celebrate bar mitzvah (mitzvoth,
because there are many of them), in a climate of amazing joy and fervor. At the
Kotel, I brought - and wore - the kippah offered to me on my previous trip by
the father of my cousin's wife. He is a 90 year old man, polyglot, bright and
cheerful as a child. At the moment he offered me this kippah, he said to me:
"I attend the synagogue out of loyalty to my parents."
The Dead Sea, whose
level is alarmingly low. Its shores are disappearing and its banks subsiding. Will
the pipeline project bringing water from the Red Sea ever materialize? Led by a
French native Israeli guide, we visit Masada and Qumran.
Tel Aviv, bustling and
yet relaxed. The splendid campus of the University, with the Diaspora museum.
The Sarona district – an agricultural colony founded in the 19th century by the
Templar Society of Christoph Hoffmann – a weird set of German-style, nicely
restored houses, amidst high offices buildings. This neighborhood is now a
fashionable area.
Rehovot, where, four
years ago, I visited the famous Weizmann Institute. This time, I discovered the
remarkable kibbutz of Machon Ayalon. There, from 1946 to 1948, members of the Haganah,
six meters underground, manufactured millions of 9 mm bullets, right under the nose
of the British Mandate authorities.
On the way back from
the Dead Sea, our Israeli guide told us that he made his alyah twenty years
before, just “to see”, and that he decided to stay in Israel. He added that
several of his companions returned to Europe. They came with too many
preconceived ideas and too idealistic a vision. "They could not bear to
see that Israel is a country like any other". Perhaps. But that country
seems to me quite different from others. I feel plenty of enthusiasm and
vitality among its inhabitants... Something very different from our
“depressive” Europe. Next year in Jerusalem? I hope…
Fiodor
Yes, the Kotel. To
those who persist in calling it "the Wailing Wall", I advise you to go
there on a Thursday morning. People gather there to celebrate bar mitzvah (mitzvoth,
because there are many of them), in a climate of amazing joy and fervor. At the
Kotel, I brought - and wore - the kippah offered to me on my previous trip by
the father of my cousin's wife. He is a 90 year old man, polyglot, bright and
cheerful as a child. At the moment he offered me this kippah, he said to me:
"I attend the synagogue out of loyalty to my parents." 
Tel Aviv, bustling and
yet relaxed. The splendid campus of the University, with the Diaspora museum.
The Sarona district – an agricultural colony founded in the 19th century by the
Templar Society of Christoph Hoffmann – a weird set of German-style, nicely
restored houses, amidst high offices buildings. This neighborhood is now a
fashionable area.
