Sun 31 December 2006   (New Year’s eve)

I spent the last morning of the year in the Valley of Kidron, which is just outside the Old City of Jerusalem, on its south-eastern side. I walked to the place via the Cardo, the ancient colonnaded street that once crossed the entire Old City (in the Medieval era of Christian Crusaders).

A few years ago the Jewish city architect of Jerusalem gave orders for the demolition of 88 Arab houses (the homes of 1000 people) in the Valley of Kidron, in the el Bustan quarter of Silwan village. The demolition orders have not been executed to this day, however, because the issue is politically very sensitive, and would provide cheap fuel for anti-Israel protesters and terrorist propaganda.

Under normal circumstances, in practically any country in the world, the demolition orders would have been executed without delay, and without anyone else paying much attention to the issue than the residents of the area, who would need to pack their luggage and move to new homes elsewhere. The houses are mostly amateur or slum architecture, and the proposed national project would develop the area for the common good of all citizens.

But the problem is that in Israel–Palestine a thing called “common good” does not even exist. Large-scale building projects can be “good for Jews” or “good for Arabs”, but hardly both at the same time. This project would be good news for Jews and bad news for Arabs. Therefore this simple and small national park project, which would go unnoticed anywhere else in the world, has caught the attention of human rights organizations even before anything has been done.

To make the political jungle complete, this area is located on the Palestinian side of the Green Line border — or more correctly, inside the international UN zone of the 1947 partition plan, which Transjordan illegally annexed in 1948, and later Israel illegally annexed in 1980. The idea of a national park in this region would be excellent from historical and environmental aspects, but not from political ones — except possibly under neutral international rule.

(Note: These photos are from the Kidron Valley, but not specifically of those 88 houses that have been ordered for demolition.)

I continued walking north along the Kidron Valley, leaving the Silwan village behind and heading towards the valley of Gethsemane, which is just east of the Temple Mount. The paved street ends at the Gihon spring, and the dirt road leading to Jericho Street is a dead-end for cars, meant for pedestrians only.

The valley of Gethsemane is one of the most charming gardens of Jerusalem in the spring, when the vegetation is lush, and Arab shepherds are occasionally seen tending their sheep among the olive trees. Now in the winter the garden was not in its most attractive condition.

Jericho Street crosses the valley near the churches of Gethsemane, and the Kidron Valley continues yet north towards El Joz. The two photos below show the last section of Kidron Valley, from Jericho Street in the south to El Joz and Mount Scopus in the north.

Having seen enough of Kidron Valley, I wanted to take a few more photos of the route of the ancient northern wall of Jerusalem. The waste processing service of East Jerusalem was in full operation outside the north-eastern corner of the Old City, burning garbage that had been piled up against the wall.

The majestic building at the corner of Neviim Street and Shivtey Israel Street used to be a French hospital. Nowadays it is home to Israel’s Ministry of Education. Remnants of the ancient northern wall of Jerusalem lie somewhere under this building, quite exactly along the route that the camera is directed at.

An old house was being relocated into the Mamillah quarter, just west of the Old City. Each stone is numbered, to ensure that the relocated building will be the exact replica of the original house in every detail.

I ate salted pretzels for lunch at 11 o’clock, while walking in the Old City. I was trying to find the model of Jerusalem in the First Temple era, but first I encountered this piece of ancient wall from the First Temple period.

The model of Jerusalem in the First Tempe era was small and not very detailed, covering only one square meter. I was let into the exhibition auditorium together with a busload of American Jewish girls, a group of potential future immigrants hosted by Taglit Birthright Israel. We watched a video presentation that focused solely on the Jewish history of Jerusalem — conveniently omitting the Canaanite, Hellenistic, Roman, Christian and Islamic periods. (Well, someone has to teach the correct patterns of thinking to the next generation...)

At 14 o’clock I quit my explorations of the Old City, and took a warm shower in Petra Hostel. The rest of the day I spent driving mostly in East Jerusalem (without being inspired to take any photos), and studying the numerous maps that I had of Jerusalem in different historical periods.

The trip meter of the car showed 2790 km at the end of the day, of which 30 km were driven today.