Walking and talking in Jerusalem

This year saw tens of thousands of Israelis and visitors from around the world brave the traffic en route to the capital over Succot to take part in the annual Jerusalem March.

The Jerusalem March (photo credit: MARC ISRAEL SELLEM)
The Jerusalem March
(photo credit: MARC ISRAEL SELLEM)
The three annual pilgrimages to Jerusalem carried out by the Israelites dating back to the First Temple Period were devised by the Davidic monarchy no less to consolidate the city’s political status as eternal capital of the Hebrew nation than for the religious function associated with the practice. Yet it would doubtless have surprised King Solomon to discover just how successful that old gambit remains after nearly three millennia.
This year saw tens of thousands of Israelis and visitors from around the world brave the traffic en route to the capital over Succot to take part in the annual Jerusalem March, in what amounts to nothing short of a full-fledged modern pilgrimage. Events kicked off with hikes starting from three points around the city’s outskirts, all converging by midday to a large festive happening in Sacher Park and later peaking with the renowned international parade across downtown.
Unlike previous marches, however, this year’s marked the first collaborative effort between City Hall and the Connecting on the Road to Jerusalem project, which seeks to bring together different sections of Israeli society – Jews and Arabs, religious and secular – into ever more open dialogue. This partnership culminated in the Connecting Jerusalem March incorporating many novel events and attractions aiming to harness this long-standing tradition for the strengthening of Israel at large.
Ram Shmueli, retired brigadier-general of the Israel Air Force and founder of the project, believes this new initiative has the potential to far exceed the limits of the march itself and help set in motion deeper changes in Israeli society.
“Israel is one of the most diverse countries in the world, and in a way it is inevitable that there should be many bitter disagreements between different sectors,” explains Shmueli. “But what we can’t afford is to have a disconnect between them and no communication whatsoever. A fighter jet squadron has no chance of functioning if there is no personal connection between the pilots; and a society is no different.”
Shmueli and his colleagues had envisioned the march as a powerful platform for the gradual nurturing of such ties amongst Israel’s many ethnic and religious communities. To this end they had arranged for a myriad of open discussion circles and booths representing dozens of social projects and NGOs to be scattered along the route of the march, led by activists and community leaders from across the country’s complex cultural map.
Some Orthodox Jewish families in the Kiryat Hayovel neighborhood hosted such talks over coffee in their living rooms; a team of Arab-Israeli schoolteachers from the Galilee, escorted by over 600 pupils, joined the march and could be seen scattered in the different booths; and a jumbled jibber-jabber of English, French and other languages rendered the presence of immigrants and visiting diaspora Jews strongly felt all throughout.
“It all starts with a decision to simply listen to what the other has to say,” Michal Shalem, chief of staff at Jerusalem City Hall, continues. “The whole point of this joint project was to take advantage of the presence of so many thousands of Israelis already coming for the traditional march, and create the opportunities for them to meet someone from another part of Israeli society they normally would not have the chance to interact with – and to maybe hear a different perspective on the way.”
It may well be that the march creates a certain indescribable buzz in the air, potent enough to break the ice between complete strangers as they determinedly clamber up Jerusalem’s treacherous inclines, shoulder to sweating shoulder.
Snaking up the tranquil streets of the Talbiyeh neighborhood, clusters of participants – young couples scurrying with baby carriages, enthusiastic teenagers clad with the uniform T-shirts of several youth movements, and even pensioners looking for a challenge – appeared from a distance like a colorful bouquet of flowers against the white background of Jerusalem stone.
Shlomi, 57, from Gedera has attended every march for nearly 30 years, and appears stubborn enough to keep up the tradition for as long as his legs allow. “I have always found Jerusalem beautiful and one of a kind, and am happy to discover new parts of it each march, since the route changes from year to year. But mostly I come because it is a privilege for a Jew to be able to make this pilgrimage at all in this day and age, and we must make good use of it.”
Escorting Shlomi were sisters Gila and Ahuva from Hod Hasharon, total strangers the morning of the march but chummy companions by early afternoon.
Close by, three teenage cousins from Kfar Saba were walking briskly to the tune of “The Time of My Life” playing on a portable speaker, while a younger sibling a few paces behind struggled to keep up.
At last the droves of visitors, visibly tired but altogether satisfied, all poured into the main festival around the finishing line in Sacher Park. There, amidst live bands and inflatable playgrounds and a long line to a makeshift hot-dog stand, many hundreds of international visitors were already gathering around their countries’ flags in preparation of the main parade. A gala at the United Nations could not have been more diverse.
Perhaps one of the largest parties present, the Dutch delegation, seemed particularly energetic. For Arie from Rotterdam, this year’s was the third Jerusalem March he had participated in. “We have come to show our support for the people of Israel. In recent years many people in Europe are beginning to understand that much of our Western culture is rooted here in this country, and that a strong and prosperous Israel is a blessing for all of us.”
Soon enough the colorful procession had launched and was making its way slowly up Bezalel Street, as crowds of curious locals lined up along the two sidewalks and others cheered on from overlooking balconies. The Brazilian delegation paused behind the Finnish delegation as the latter broke into a round of “Shalom Aleichem” that was joined enthusiastically by some in the crowd; on the sidewalk a few Jerusalemite kids took selfies with a glamorous woman from Togo in exotic dress. All the while the Korean delegation proceeded up their lane in a well-coordinated dance, possibly choreographed and rehearsed weeks in advance.
Large chunks of the incoming parade had quickly mixed to make the origin of the delegates quite unintelligible. Few occasions will ever see the Chinese, American, Israeli and Italian flags intermingled in the same demonstration. Indeed, it begs the obvious question: "why should this rare event happen [specifically] in Jerusalem, of all places?" Israelis very often feel besieged by an unfriendly world misinformed by hostile media, and though that notion is of course not entirely detached from reality, it may surprise many in this country to what extent such hostility is often matched by open adulation of Israel in all four corners of the earth. It is precisely the circumstances faced by this country head-on since its inception which, on the one hand, subject it to frequent criticism on the world stage, but on the other hand also inspire millions around the world.
Yet we must also strive to deserve such admiration, pushing tirelessly for a freer and more just Israel in our generation. A good place to start would certainly be an effort to bring all sectors of this intricate society into an unobstructed discussion that will afford each a place in building a better common future in this country. The first step, Ram Shmueli argues, is to simply start talking.
“All we could possibly hope for is to see these people keep on arguing after the march,” he chuckles. “After all, that’s what Israelis do best.”