History is liberally sprinkled with stories of enemies who became allies and even friends. We see it with Israel and some of its neighbors and have not abandoned hope that Israel will enter normal relations with other countries in the region.
The reasons for changes in nations’ relationships are varied: a common enemy; the desire to use a former enemy as a stepping stone or liaison to another country; additional air space to enable increased tourism; joint business ventures; access to certain products and spheres of knowledge, or in the case of author Avi Shalev, plain curiosity about the other while pursuing a teaching certificate.
A retired colonel in the Israel Defense Forces and the Civil Administration, where he spent 24 years of his life, Shalev wanted to explore Israel’s Arab sector from a different perspective. Admittedly, Israel’s Arabs are by and large not the enemy, but most Israeli Arabs live separately in their own towns and villages and not in mixed communities, even though they work as doctors, lawyers, judges, academics, supermarket staff, etc., in mainstream Israel. At the end of the working day, they go home to a different lifestyle, a different culture, and a different set of values and traditions.
Shalev came to the conclusion that the best way to learn to understand them would be to enroll at Al-Qasemi College in the Arab Israeli town of Baqa al-Gharbiyye.
Friends and family tried to dissuade him. No Jew had ever studied there before, and everyone was worried about his safety.
As he entered the town on a Saturday morning, some of Shalev’s bravado dissipated. Talking on his mobile phone while still in his car, he wondered whether it was wise for him to speak in Hebrew. When entering the college campus, he was surprised by the cleanliness, the architectural beauty, the signs that were in both Hebrew and Arabic, and the lively atmosphere generated by the students, most of whom were female – but without uniformity of attire, signifying that they were of different religious, cultural, and tribal backgrounds.
The Only Jew in the Room: Searching for Understanding in an Arab Islamic College
As evidenced in his new book, Shalev has a fine eye for detail, and his descriptions of his surroundings, the people he sees and meets, the characteristics of the lecturers, and the content of the lessons give the reader the feeling of constantly standing by his side. It is all so real, and essentially new even though Israeli Jews and Arabs rub shoulders on public transport, in the marketplace, in restaurants and coffee shops, in hospitals and universities, on the sports field, and elsewhere.
The Only Jew in the Room: Searching for Understanding in an Arab Islamic College is a mix of Shalev’s impressions and experiences, and more than anything else highlights the lack of awareness on the part of most Israelis about what makes the Arab population tick, and whether Arabs feel as uncomfortable in predominantly Jewish areas as Jews feel in predominantly Arab areas. There are mutual suspicions, which in most cases are unfounded, and in many cases are more in the nature of cautious curiosity
As happens in most countries, the minority populations know a lot more about the majority than the majority know about the minority.
Shalev becomes more aware of this in his conversations with fellow students. For instance, one of his classmates knows that Shalev initially felt uncomfortable because he did not know whether he would be accepted. She draws a parallel with her own experience. During the week, when she is at work, she is surrounded by Jews with whom she also felt uncomfortable until she got to know them. Though as pleasant as they are to her, she also detects an undercurrent of suspicion that she may want to kill them.
Shalev is conscious of eyes being cast in his direction and that people are whispering about him. Some of the students at the college would have preferred to study at Hebron University, which has a higher standard of education, but students were required to show up at classes all week, which meant they couldn’t work. At Al-Qasemi, classes were held on the weekend, so it was possible to work to earn a living during the week.Shalev’s classmates were extremely curious about what prompted him to enroll at an Arab college in an all-Arab town and teased him that he was on the way to converting to Islam.
On the other hand, some of the female students speak such fluent, accentless Hebrew, that those who don’t cover their heads could easily be mistaken for Jewish women. One of the most difficult things for Shalev was trying to understand classical Arabic, which is vastly different from the colloquial Arabic he speaks.
Something else that puzzles him time and again is why Jewish students of Middle East studies and the Arabic language fail to attend Arab institutions of higher learning, where they are taught by Arab academics, and instead enroll at Israeli universities where with rare exceptions, they are taught by Jewish academics. Yet there are Arab academics and students in most Israeli universities and colleges.
He discovered that critical thought on religious issues is alien to even the most intellectual of Arabs if they are religious. Criticism of the prophets is taboo, whereas in Judaism it is not only permissible but encouraged.
Shalev’s command of Arabic obviously improved through his contacts with fellow students and from what was discussed in class. He was surprised to learn that in Arabic, there is no distinction between the words “killed” and “murdered,” whereas there is a difference in both Hebrew and English.
Another surprise was the use of the word nakba, meaning “catastrophe” in Arabic, which he thought had been adopted or invented by Palestinian Arabs in 1948 following Israel’s War of Independence. But he learned that it had been used 100 years earlier in connection with the destruction of Damascus, and as far back as 1258 in the destruction of Baghdad, and again in 1492 when Spain relieved the Muslims of Granada, which had been their last stronghold.
1492 also resonates with Jews as the most important year of the Spanish Inquisition, in which tens of thousands of Jews were exiled or executed or forced to convert. It was also the year in which Christopher Columbus set sail for the New World.
Prior to studying at Al-Qasemi, Shalev spent time in Germany at the Berlin Free University, whose projects include a mixed class of Muslims and Jews, mostly from Arab countries and Israel, with the aim of promoting peace and harmony. While there, Shalev befriended a student from Afghanistan, who it transpired was not using his real name, and who steadfastly refused to be photographed with Shalev.
The reason, Shalev discovered, was because if such a photograph would be seen in his friend’s home country, he would probably be a target for assassination because studying with a Jew from Israel would be perceived as “sleeping with the enemy.”
During his military career, Shalev came across Muslims who declared that Hamas, with its policy of violence, is not Muslim because Islam is a peace-loving religion. Something else he learned in the army and in civilian life was that one cannot learn about Arab culture without putting one’s own cultural beliefs and traditions aside; and if one really wants to delve into Arab culture, it is essential to read Arab poetry, which is the true repository for Arab nationalism.
Suffice it to say, the book makes for a fascinating read. It was originally written in Hebrew and beautifully translated by Anat Hinkis-Atzmon. It was written before October 7, 2023, but the translation was ready for release at that time. When the horrific events of October 7 unfolded, Shalev decided to dedicate the book to all those who lost their lives, were kidnapped, or who were and still may be missing.
Despite the immeasurable loss, Shalev remains hopeful that one day both sides will enjoy a peaceful coexistence.■
The Only Jew in the Room: Searching for Understanding in an Arab Islamic College by Avi Shalev
369 pages; self-published 2023
Inquiries should be directed to Avishalev11@gmail.com