Israel in 3,300 Words?

The great frustration for me as a TV producer is to condense everything I’d like to say into 30 minutes and about 3,300 words. This week in Israel could have easily filled two episodes — but we’ll design it into one powerful viewing experience.

We like to start our shows with a montage, which we carefully craft as we travel and shoot. Now that we’re wrapping up our week of filming, here’s how we’ll start our episode on “The Best of Israel”:

“Israel is filled with fascinating sights — from the holy spirit of Jerusalem to the cosmopolitan spirit of Tel Aviv, with its in-love-with-life Mediterranean beaches. Visitors ponder the fortress of Masada, and pilgrims find inspiration at the Biblical sights around the Sea of Galilee. You can bob like a cork in the super-salty Dead Sea, the lowest place on Earth. And you can dive into thriving modern cities like Haifa, where both Jewish and Arab Israelis stoke the economy with a youthful and well-trained workforce. While lively multicultural café scenes seem to offer a promise of peace in Israel, any visit includes reminders of this country’s ongoing challenges. Israel is a land of tension and controversy — with protective walls, disputed settlements, and high-profile security. A thoughtful visit here is both poignant and enlightening.”

Pictured here is the Damascus Gate which leads into the Old City of Jerusalem (which itself could fill an entire episode).
Pictured here is the Damascus Gate which leads into the Old City of Jerusalem (which itself could fill an entire episode).

I’ll continue this Holy Land Blog series until Nov 21st. Then, to celebrate my homecoming, I’ll give a live, free slideshow lecture on Thursday, November 21st at 7 p.m. PST in Edmonds, WA. You can attend in person (registration required)…or watch the live webcast from anywhere in the world (no registration required). Learn more at Rick Steves Holy Land.

Ultra-Orthodox — Every Religion’s Got ‘Em

I’m caught up in how religions around the world are stoking turmoil, even though the teachings of those religions say “love your neighbor,” and all of them have the “do unto others…” Golden Rule. And I’ve decided that fundamentalism is the problem. I think the rainbow of religions on this planet is a delight — except for the fundamentalists in each. Perhaps there are “different strokes for different folks” fundamentalists, but it seems to me that, in a nutshell, a fundamentalist (Christian, Jew, or Muslim) believes, “I am correct in my understanding of God, and you are wrong”… and then proceeds to intrude into the lives of people who see their relation with God differently.

Roughly 8 percent of Israeli Jews are ultra-Orthodox — very religious and living lives that require them to be apart in many ways. Entire districts of Jerusalem — such as Mea Shearim — are known as ultra-Orthodox. In Mea Shearim, people are dressed very conservatively. Women’s stores have a huge selection of wigs, hats, and scarves, because after marriage, Orthodox women must cover their hair in public. (If someone can explain to me the Jewish notion that a woman can’t show her hair in public for reasons of modesty, but she can wear a wig and still look great, I’m all ears.)
Roughly 8 percent of Israeli Jews are ultra-Orthodox — very religious and living lives that require them to be apart in many ways. Entire districts of Jerusalem — such as Mea Shearim — are known as ultra-Orthodox. In Mea Shearim, people are dressed very conservatively. Women’s stores have a huge selection of wigs, hats, and scarves, because after marriage, Orthodox women must cover their hair in public. (If someone can explain to me the Jewish notion that a woman can’t show her hair in public for reasons of modesty, but she can wear a wig and still look great, I’m all ears.)
Among ultra-Orthodox Jews, there are many groups who follow different teachers or rabbis. Many rabbis are charismatic and have huge followings. (One died the day we arrived in Jerusalem, and the streets of the city were at a standstill as thousands came out to mourn.) In the ultra-Orthodox neighborhoods of Jerusalem, storefronts are lined with posters and paintings of the top rabbis; a quick survey tells you which rabbis are the most popular. (Just as Baptists love the “Behold, I stand at the door and knock” painting, people here display paintings of The Second Temple before its destruction.) It got me thinking about other charismatic religious leaders, and how many Evangelical Christians are also more likely to be caught up in the teachings of a particular dynamic minister. Meanwhile, in both Christianity and Judaism, mainline worshippers have a spiritual keel provided not by an individual, but by a steady liturgy or theology that doesn’t flex with the comings and goings of various leaders.
Among ultra-Orthodox Jews, there are many groups who follow different teachers or rabbis. Many rabbis are charismatic and have huge followings. (One died the day we arrived in Jerusalem, and the streets of the city were at a standstill as thousands came out to mourn.) In the ultra-Orthodox neighborhoods of Jerusalem, storefronts are lined with posters and paintings of the top rabbis; a quick survey tells you which rabbis are the most popular. (Just as Baptists love the “Behold, I stand at the door and knock” painting, people here display paintings of The Second Temple before its destruction.) It got me thinking about other charismatic religious leaders, and how many Evangelical Christians are also more likely to be caught up in the teachings of a particular dynamic minister. Meanwhile, in both Christianity and Judaism, mainline worshippers have a spiritual keel provided not by an individual, but by a steady liturgy or theology that doesn’t flex with the comings and goings of various leaders.
Leading rabbis or teachers have their own styles and set the standards of orthodoxy for their followers. You can identify who follows whom by which bit of the Torah they embrace with the most abandon. This rabbi on the right takes literally the Old Testament command to wear the Holy Scripture on your forehead, proclaiming your love of God — and so, then, do his followers, when they come for morning services.
Leading rabbis or teachers have their own styles and set the standards of orthodoxy for their followers. You can identify who follows whom by which bit of the Torah they embrace with the most abandon. This rabbi on the right takes literally the Old Testament command to wear the Holy Scripture on your forehead, proclaiming your love of God — and so, then, do his followers, when they come for morning services.
The diversity of Israel — both ethnic and religious — shows itself in the way people dress and wear their hair. This is especially evident in places of worship and in ultra-Orthodox neighborhoods. With the help of a local guide, simply people-watching comes with fun cultural insights. To illustrate and better understand this, we filmed a montage of people with different clothing and hairstyles. Then we got our guide to take us on a fascinating tour of religious fashion in Jerusalem, with commentary like this: "The yarmulke is a constant reminder that God is always above us. The ear locks are because some embrace the scripture that says don’t cut the hair on the side of your face. Men wear black as a symbol of mourning of the destruction of The Temple nearly two thousand years ago. The black top hats come in many varieties, and from them, you can guess which specific brand of Orthodoxy they profess....and, in some cases, which country they emigrated from."
The diversity of Israel — both ethnic and religious — shows itself in the way people dress and wear their hair. This is especially evident in places of worship and in ultra-Orthodox neighborhoods. With the help of a local guide, simply people-watching comes with fun cultural insights. To illustrate and better understand this, we filmed a montage of people with different clothing and hairstyles. Then we got our guide to take us on a fascinating tour of religious fashion in Jerusalem, with commentary like this: “The yarmulke is a constant reminder that God is always above us. The ear locks are because some embrace the scripture that says don’t cut the hair on the side of your face. Men wear black as a symbol of mourning of the destruction of The Temple nearly two thousand years ago. The black top hats come in many varieties, and from them, you can guess which specific brand of Orthodoxy they profess….and, in some cases, which country they emigrated from.”
Religions traditions reach well into the colorful markets of Israel. While the casual tourist (who doesn’t read Hebrew) would likely be oblivious to the fine points, shops like this attract a certain market segment by posting seals of approval certifying that the goods here are not just kosher, but perfectly in line with the standards of one specific rabbi's supervision. Other posters brag that a popular rabbi endorses that particular shop (much like how, in Britain, you’ll see the royal coat of arms at places patronized by the Queen).
Religions traditions reach well into the colorful markets of Israel. While the casual tourist (who doesn’t read Hebrew) would likely be oblivious to the fine points, shops like this attract a certain market segment by posting seals of approval certifying that the goods here are not just kosher, but perfectly in line with the standards of one specific rabbi’s supervision. Other posters brag that a popular rabbi endorses that particular shop (much like how, in Britain, you’ll see the royal coat of arms at places patronized by the Queen).

The Temple Mount: Is This God’s Idea of a Joke?

Imagine standing on the Mount of Olives, looking over at Jerusalem, and then looking into the camera to say, “The land Israelis and Palestinians occupy is, for a third of humanity, literally holy land. And Jerusalem marks its sacred center. To Christians, this is where Jesus was crucified and resurrected. To Muslims, this is from where Mohammed ascended to Heaven. And to Jews, it’s where the Temple of Solomon stood. The crossroads for three great religions, the Holy Land has been coveted and fought over for centuries.”

Sometimes this work — what I sometimes playfully think of as tour guiding for couch potatoes — is so exciting that I can’t say my lines without losing my composure.

When filming (or traveling) in the Holy Land, you need to expect the unexpected. In a land of three faiths, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday are all Sabbaths — triple the religious holidays (and problematic-for-our-work closures) than in other places. On the morning we planned to film important “on camera” bits from the famous viewpoint of the Mount of Olives, we hit a perfect storm of cruise ships and religious pilgrims, causing a jam-up of at least a hundred tour buses on a winding lane designed for little more than donkey carts. Hoping to salvage something — as we had a tight and demanding itinerary for that day — we jumped out of our car (so it wouldn’t get ensnared in the mammoth traffic jam), hiked quickly to the viewpoint, realized it was impossibly crowded to get any good work done, hiked through the ancient cemetery below, and found a quiet little perch upon which to film. We got our "on cameras" done just as a truck with a loudspeaker came by to say, “You are standing on private property and must leave.”
When filming (or traveling) in the Holy Land, you need to expect the unexpected. In a land of three faiths, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday are all Sabbaths — triple the religious holidays (and problematic-for-our-work closures) than in other places. On the morning we planned to film important “on camera” bits from the famous viewpoint of the Mount of Olives, we hit a perfect storm of cruise ships and religious pilgrims, causing a jam-up of at least a hundred tour buses on a winding lane designed for little more than donkey carts. Hoping to salvage something — as we had a tight and demanding itinerary for that day — we jumped out of our car (so it wouldn’t get ensnared in the mammoth traffic jam), hiked quickly to the viewpoint, realized it was impossibly crowded to get any good work done, hiked through the ancient cemetery below, and found a quiet little perch upon which to film. We got our “on cameras” done just as a truck with a loudspeaker came by to say, “You are standing on private property and must leave.”
The golden dome on Temple Mount marks a spot considered sacred to a third of humanity. Under that dome is a sacrificial stone with gutters to drain the blood spilled upon it by pagans long before there was a Jewish faith. It’s the stone upon which — according to Muslim, Jewish, and Christian tradition — Abraham prepared to prove his faith by sacrificing his son, Isaac. Pondering the tumult and persistent tragedy caused by the fact that three religions share a single holy rock, our cameraman, Karel, wonders if God doesn’t just have a wicked sense of humor. (And thank you to Baha'is and Hindis, and other faiths for choosing other places to call holy.)
The golden dome on Temple Mount marks a spot considered sacred to a third of humanity. Under that dome is a sacrificial stone with gutters to drain the blood spilled upon it by pagans long before there was a Jewish faith. It’s the stone upon which — according to Muslim, Jewish, and Christian tradition — Abraham prepared to prove his faith by sacrificing his son, Isaac. Pondering the tumult and persistent tragedy caused by the fact that three religions share a single holy rock, our cameraman, Karel, wonders if God doesn’t just have a wicked sense of humor. (And thank you to Baha’is and Hindis, and other faiths for choosing other places to call holy.)
Filming at the Western Wall was easy...as long as we didn’t need to film women worshipping, since our cameraman wouldn’t be allowed in that half of the open-air synagogue. (When we filmed here 13 years ago, we had a female camera operator. Consequently, our Western Wall shots for that episode were of women praying.) We had complete access, along with all the happy uncles making home videos of the festival of bar mitzvahs going on, and the footage will be vivid and joyful. As we explain in our script, "A thousand years before Jesus, King David united the 12 tribes of Israel and captured Jerusalem. His son, Solomon, built The First Temple right here. It was later destroyed, and The Second Temple was built. Then came the catastrophic year for the Jews: A.D. 70, when the Romans destroyed their temple, ushering in the Diaspora. That’s when the Jews became a people without a land and dispersed throughout the world. The western foundation of the ancient wall that surrounded the temple survives. Here — at what's called the Western Wall — Jews mourn a horrible past and pray for a better future. The square operates as an open-air synagogue. The faithful believe prayers left in cracks between the stones of the Western Wall will be answered."
Filming at the Western Wall was easy…as long as we didn’t need to film women worshipping, since our cameraman wouldn’t be allowed in that half of the open-air synagogue. (When we filmed here 13 years ago, we had a female camera operator. Consequently, our Western Wall shots for that episode were of women praying.) We had complete access, along with all the happy uncles making home videos of the festival of bar mitzvahs going on, and the footage will be vivid and joyful. As we explain in our script, “A thousand years before Jesus, King David united the 12 tribes of Israel and captured Jerusalem. His son, Solomon, built The First Temple right here. It was later destroyed, and The Second Temple was built. Then came the catastrophic year for the Jews: A.D. 70, when the Romans destroyed their temple, ushering in the Diaspora. That’s when the Jews became a people without a land and dispersed throughout the world. The western foundation of the ancient wall that surrounded the temple survives. Here — at what’s called the Western Wall — Jews mourn a horrible past and pray for a better future. The square operates as an open-air synagogue. The faithful believe prayers left in cracks between the stones of the Western Wall will be answered.”
Sorting out things in the Holy Land compared to in Europe is like going from checkers to chess. I am so steep on the learning curve, and it was critical for us to have good guides (like Abie Bresler, our Jerusalem guide, shown here) all through our shoot. (Abie was the perfect fixer. For example, when my producer Simon said that the little loaner white yarmulke they give visiting tourists didn’t "pop" on film, Abie found me a classy black one to wear in a snap.) I started our Israel show saying, “I’m wearing my yarmulke and I’m ready to learn.”
Sorting out things in the Holy Land compared to in Europe is like going from checkers to chess. I am so steep on the learning curve, and it was critical for us to have good guides (like Abie Bresler, our Jerusalem guide, shown here) all through our shoot. (Abie was the perfect fixer. For example, when my producer Simon said that the little loaner white yarmulke they give visiting tourists didn’t “pop” on film, Abie found me a classy black one to wear in a snap.) I started our Israel show saying, “I’m wearing my yarmulke and I’m ready to learn.”

Pondering Israeli Settlements in the West Bank

Visiting several Israeli settlements (built over the border from Israel in Palestinian West Bank territory, and therefore controversial), I can see the appeal of these neighborhoods — especially for young families. But I’ve learned that these settlements embitter the Palestinians as much as violent resistance embitters Israelis. And the more settlements are built, the more the West Bank becomes fragmented, and the more difficult a mutually agreeable two-state solution — or any solution — may become. While I hope it’s not true, the aggressive establishment of these settlements today could haunt Israel’s prospects for a happy resolution of the tensions in the Middle East tomorrow.

If you can’t see the video below, watch it on YouTube.

It’s Like Holy Land Monopoly

From my experience traveling here, I’ve learned that it’s all about control of land. That’s the crux of the problem between Israelis and Palestinians, and symbols of that ongoing struggle are everywhere. Israelis are developing settlements — secure and fortified communities on the tops of hills — and, in doing so, are reaching far into internationally recognized Palestinian territory.

Supporters of these settlements make the case that developing this land is justified because the land was unused, and because the language of the treaty designating it Palestinian was open-ended (“until a final status agreement is reached”). And many Jews (and Evangelical Christians who are inclined to support them) believe it is God’s will that they occupy Biblical “Judea and Samaria,” which is what they call the West Bank. I chatted with several settlers to get their perspectives.

Terminology is a delicate dance in the Holy Land, and settlers (who don’t refer to themselves as that) have their own strict vocabulary. In the ongoing debate, many in Israel make the case that “Palestinians” are actually Jordanians, and that the word “Palestine” comes from the ancient Philistines — a completely different race from the Mediterranean. (It occurred to me that you could attempt to discredit plight of our “Indians” in a similar way.)

Across the West Bank, hilltops have sprouted tidy Lego-like communities...little boxes on a hillside. From a distance, you can easily distinguish Israeli developments (cookie-cutter, with uniform red-tile roofs, like these) from higgledy-piggledy Palestinian ones.
Across the West Bank, hilltops have sprouted tidy Lego-like communities…little boxes on a hillside. From a distance, you can easily distinguish Israeli developments (cookie-cutter, with uniform red-tile roofs, like these) from higgledy-piggledy Palestinian ones.
Settlements are planned communities — beautifully landscaped and designed, offering the same modern conveniences and efficiency you'd expect in an American gated community.
Settlements are planned communities — beautifully landscaped and designed, offering the same modern conveniences and efficiency you’d expect in an American gated community.
Over half a million Israeli Jews now live in settlements in the West Bank. These planned and secure communities come with all the comforts. And, with Israeli government subsidies for housing and transportation, young Jewish families can afford to live here and commute back to Israel proper. For many, it’s a deal too good to refuse.
Over half a million Israeli Jews now live in settlements in the West Bank. These planned and secure communities come with all the comforts. And, with Israeli government subsidies for housing and transportation, young Jewish families can afford to live here and commute back to Israel proper. For many, it’s a deal too good to refuse.
I enjoyed meeting and interviewing this smart couple who are raising 10 children in one of Israel’s biggest and most modern settlements. Chatting in a café at their mall, they explained how the settlements make perfect sense to them. They acknowledged that the rest of the world may not like it (referring to the “rest of the world” as just another opinion). Describing their community as a "city" rather than a "settlement," they were clearly thankful to have a place to raise their children according to their values in a secure and affordable environment.
I enjoyed meeting and interviewing this smart couple who are raising 10 children in one of Israel’s biggest and most modern settlements. Chatting in a café at their mall, they explained how the settlements make perfect sense to them. They acknowledged that the rest of the world may not like it (referring to the “rest of the world” as just another opinion). Describing their community as a “city” rather than a “settlement,” they were clearly thankful to have a place to raise their children according to their values in a secure and affordable environment.
I enjoyed a beer and a chat with this resident of a simple and rustic settlement in the Jordan River Valley. He said he was here not as a Zionist staking Jewish claim to a land the Bible promised them, and not because attractive government subsidies made it economical, but because it was quiet and offered his young family a back-to-nature home with wonderful neighbors. “You never see the stars in Tel Aviv like we do here,” he told me.
I enjoyed a beer and a chat with this resident of a simple and rustic settlement in the Jordan River Valley. He said he was here not as a Zionist staking Jewish claim to a land the Bible promised them, and not because attractive government subsidies made it economical, but because it was quiet and offered his young family a back-to-nature home with wonderful neighbors. “You never see the stars in Tel Aviv like we do here,” he told me.
In another settlement, I met a 24-year-old man who just bought his house and was thrilled to invite us in. He and his buddy gave us an interview on their balcony with a vast and unpopulated view. They made the same claim I'd heard from other residents of these settlements: The land was going unused anyway, so why shouldn’t industrious Israeli Jews develop it? They can pump in water from desalination plants and build a slick freeway infrastructure to provide a fine place for people to live. When I asked these young men if there’s a good and peaceful future in this region, I was struck by how matter-of-factly they said, “Only if the Palestinians move east across the Jordan River and into the country of Jordan.”
In another settlement, I met a 24-year-old man who just bought his house and was thrilled to invite us in. He and his buddy gave us an interview on their balcony with a vast and unpopulated view. They made the same claim I’d heard from other residents of these settlements: The land was going unused anyway, so why shouldn’t industrious Israeli Jews develop it? They can pump in water from desalination plants and build a slick freeway infrastructure to provide a fine place for people to live. When I asked these young men if there’s a good and peaceful future in this region, I was struck by how matter-of-factly they said, “Only if the Palestinians move east across the Jordan River and into the country of Jordan.”
Spending time in Israeli settlements built in the last decade or so in the West Bank, on Leave It To Beaver streets under the red-tile roofs of cookie-cutter homes, I felt as if I were in California. Gangs of happy-go-lucky children on their bikes were eager to befriend me, and there was a relaxed vibe.
Spending time in Israeli settlements built in the last decade or so in the West Bank, on Leave It To Beaver streets under the red-tile roofs of cookie-cutter homes, I felt as if I were in California. Gangs of happy-go-lucky children on their bikes were eager to befriend me, and there was a relaxed vibe.
With a Palestinian car, we couldn’t drive into this community. Walking to the gate of the settlement with our crew and a big camera, I asked, “Can we enter?” The guard said, “Why not? It’s a free country.” The guard next to him added, “God bless the American dollar.” As we were leaving, he said, “Enjoy your economy.” For some reason, I found myself pondering that odd farewell for the rest of the day.
With a Palestinian car, we couldn’t drive into this community. Walking to the gate of the settlement with our crew and a big camera, I asked, “Can we enter?” The guard said, “Why not? It’s a free country.” The guard next to him added, “God bless the American dollar.” As we were leaving, he said, “Enjoy your economy.” For some reason, I found myself pondering that odd farewell for the rest of the day.
Just like Palestinians have their political art, Israelis do, too. But it’s a little prettier. Decorating the parking lot of a settlement shopping mall, this mural shows the father of Zionism, Theodor Herzl (who, in the 19th century, was instrumental in establishing the notion that the Diaspora Jews scattered around the world since A.D. 70 are destined to have a Jewish homeland in the Holy Land with Jerusalem as its capital). The Hebrew here says, essentially, “Let the dream come true.”
Just like Palestinians have their political art, Israelis do, too. But it’s a little prettier. Decorating the parking lot of a settlement shopping mall, this mural shows the father of Zionism, Theodor Herzl (who, in the 19th century, was instrumental in establishing the notion that the Diaspora Jews scattered around the world since A.D. 70 are destined to have a Jewish homeland in the Holy Land with Jerusalem as its capital). The Hebrew here says, essentially, “Let the dream come true.”