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Thursday, April 21, 2011

The holy land yearns for people with heart and vision to think in a different way, to heal in a new way, and to make real the vision for a just peace.

For Arab and Jew, a new beginning

After generations of strife, the holy land yearns for people with heart and vision to think in a different way, to heal in a new way, and to make real the vision for a just peace.

By Sandy Tolan / April 21, 2011 Los Angeles

With each child shot down with a stone in his hand, or on her way home from the bakery; with each cafe turned to carnage when a young man explodes himself upon the innocent; with each shot and countershot, crude rocket launch, or barrage of missiles sent in retribution – with each terrible burst of anger and pain, something beautiful is lost.

Life, of course; that's what's been sacrificed, more than 100,000 times by some estimates, since the tragedy unfolded six decades ago.

But more than human life has been lost in these tragic years. Also diminished are immeasurable quantities of creativity, curiosity, joy, openness, and possibility. Imagine the other paths that might have opened had so many lives not been cut short – and so many dreams not been smashed into shards across a broken landscape of Arab and Jew.

After generations of strife, the holy land yearns for people with heart and vision to think in a different way, to heal in a new way, and to make real the vision for a just peace.

The status quo is unacceptable

For now, the decisions of diplomacy are in the hands of the hardened, the unimaginative, the angry, the weak, the fearful, and the near-defeated. The truth, for the moment, is not encouraging.

For Palestinians, this June marks 44 years under occupation. Their hope of a state to call home has shriveled, along with the land base itself. It began with a vision of a single secular democratic state of Arabs and Jews on the area that now comprises Israel, the West Bank, and Gaza. It became a historic compromise for a nation on 22 percent of that land. The reality is limited autonomy and movement on just 10 percent – a "state of leftovers" amid expanding housing projects and segregated roads.

For Israelis, the dream of feeling truly safe and secure, accepted as a neighbor by historic enemies, is scarcely more real than it was in 1949, when the armistice was brokered after the first of many wars. Now a wall has arisen, and security guards no longer stand at sidewalk cafes. But a sense of genuine safety and acceptance remains a desert mirage.

For one people, an endless occupation upon their shrinking land base; for another, an illusory calm, as the winds of revolution blow in from the West and East. For both peoples, and for us on the outside, there is one thing to agree on: The status quo is unacceptable. Real change may seem impossible, but it must come. And if the recent past is a teacher, it may come more swiftly, and more unpredictably, than any self-styled leader or expert could say....READ MORE

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