A deer park

The reopening of Gazelle Valley as a nature spot in a sea of urban development is the culmination of a decades-long legal battle.

By BARRY DAVIS
Gazelles in the valley. (photo credit: AMIR BALABAN)
Gazelles in the valley.
(photo credit: AMIR BALABAN)
Sometimes, possibly more often than not, we tend to despair of the powers-that-be, and of the ability of the man and/or woman on the street to get the well-paid officials to consider our real needs. If you happen to be in need of a pick-me-up, especially while the election is still fresh in your mind, you may want to dwell on the forthcoming reopening of Gazelle Valley.
The rejuvenated park will officially open its doors at 4 p.m. on Monday, and there will be an opening ceremony at 5:30 p.m. attended by Mayor Nir Barkat, the president’s wife Nechama Rivlin and various other VIPs.
The organizers expect thousands of local residents to turn up for the happy occasion, although the police are capping entry to the park at 3,000. There will be all kinds of arts workshops laid on for children and adults, as well as guided bird-watching and other tours, while various musical ensembles and bands infuse the relatively clean park air with pleasant sonic entertainment. The opening afternoon program ends at 7 p.m.
On a press tour earlier this week – along with a bunch of reporters largely from the other end of Route 1, with Mayor Nir Barkat in the mix – one could not help but marvel at the richness of Mother Nature’s profferings, as mustard flowers and wild chrysanthemums lolled in the gentle breeze betwixt the red buttercups, and flowers of almost every hue. Wheat and delightfully untended grass grew undisturbed as trees, young and old, afforded pleasant shade from the warm spring sun.
Gazelle Valley nestles between a couple of serious traffic arteries – Herzog Boulevard to the south and Begin Highway to the west. There was no missing the roar of the trucks, buses and cars as we strolled through the pastoral treasure, but somehow, the tranquility of the park held its own against the sounds and smells of polluting means of transportation.
It must be said, considering the real-estate situation in Jerusalem – with extra floors being added to previously quaint old structures all over the show, and higher and higher apartment blocks proliferating – that the reopening of the valley is nothing short of a miracle. Anyone who has lived in Jerusalem for a few years may be aware of the constant legal wrangling that has gone on as contractors, property developers and even some municipal officials have done their worst to make hay while the green lung deflates.
Just one look across the rippling ponds that have emerged in the valley, at the aesthetically disturbing and nefariously created Holyland complex, places the park project in a stark real-life context. Back in the 1990s, there were plans to build an enormous new residential district in the valley, and even after the park revival plans were up and running, the municipality tried to elbow its way into the western margins of the valley, proposing to build a string of businesses along Begin Highway.
“We weren’t going to have that,” recalls Tal Peri, the local residents’ representative. “I remember one day, coming out of a supermarket and there were two young girls getting people to sign a petition against the construction plans for the valley. We fought against those plans tooth and nail, and we ended up with this magnificent place.”
The residents were really up against it. “At the time the mayor [Ehud Olmert] was the person who built that thing there [the Holyland complex], and the municipality did everything it could to stop us from succeeding,” continues Peri.
Soon after, Jerusalem district planner Binat Schwartz contacted the residents’ action committee to ask them what the locals wanted. Help soon arrived when the Bimkom – Planner for Planning Rights nonprofit came on board.
“They helped us put together a community cooperation plan that everyone here wanted,” recounts Peri. “Hundreds of local residents chose the plan, which called for an untouched natural space to be preserved for nature and for the gazelles, with a minimum amount of development in the rest of the valley.”
“The human story of this place is no less important than the zoological and biological side,” asserts Amir Balaban, manager of the ornithological department of the Society for the Preservation of Nature in Israel, and the de facto director of Gazelle Valley.
It seems that generations of Jerusalemites have had cause to be grateful for the output of the location.
“Throughout its history, this valley constantly served the residents of ancient Jerusalem and provided them with food – olives and grains,” adds Balaban. “And after the harsh siege in 1948, hundreds of thousands of fruit trees were planted here.”
Balaban has fresher, and less pleasant, memories of the place – of the fate that faced any young trespasser.
“Anyone who grew up here remembers the terrible fear of the guard they had here, who rode a horse and had guard dogs and a gun that shot salt pellets; that was particularly prevalent during the cherry season.”
The valley already looks definitively inviting, and there is more to come, lots more. “This is only the first of four stages in the park’s development,” Balaban explains. “The entire surrounding area will be connected to the park, via promenades with observation points. This will be the Central Park [akin to New York City’s celebrated green space] of this domain.”
Barkat was also keen to stress the street-level dynamics that powered the project to fruition. “I came here for the first time following the residents’ deployment and I met Amir, and I could see the great potential of this place,” the mayor notes. “We had to undergo a legal process, and to provide Amir and the residents with a genuine mandate, and the municipality, and harness the significant knowhow of people at the [city] zoo and at SPNI. All these parties, together, generated the park; we are developing it in stages, so we can all enjoy it as quickly as possible.”
Barkat is putting the municipality’s money where his mouth is, and some NIS 22 million has thus far been invested in the development work, with a further NIS 70m. due to be added in the coming years – both from the municipality’s coffers and from donations that will be raised through the Jerusalem Foundation.
At the end of the day, Gazelle Valley is about the animals that gave the spot its name. Sadly, over the years, the animal population of the area dwindled due to construction work around it and the encroaching main roads. The park developers are looking to replenish the stocks and two female adult gazelles have been brought over from Tel Aviv, with the hope that nature will soon take its course and the hoped-for offspring will be produced.
All told, the park will cover an area of 25 hectares (62 acres), and in fact is the first urban nature spot of its kind in the country. Around a quarter of the park will be cordoned off for the gazelles’ exclusive use, to keep them safe from animal predators and humans alike.
Barkat also noted that the mangal (barbecue) crowd will not be welcome at the park, and there won’t be any impromptu soccer games taking place.
“This is not a park for picnics,” he clarifies. “This is an educational park of the first order. It conveys the message that there is room for nature alongside urban development, similar to Hamesila Park, which was also initiated by residents. The idea is for the park to be available to children, youth and adults in their own backyard.” And the “backyard” valley park will be open 24/7, offering free admission.
“Investing in nature is an investment in ourselves, and I want to thank the residents who worked for this happen,” adds Barkat. “I hope that more and more municipalities listen to the public and its needs.”
Amen to that.