Bethlehem is being strangled to death in front of our eyes, and not with artillery and bullets, but with a wall. First, a little background …

I was in Bethlehem in Christmas of 2002, covering the lack of Christmas celebration because of the intifada, or uprising. The Israelis and the Palestinians had been fighting since 2000, and the Palestinian dead outnumbered the Israeli dead five to one in this second intifada. Due to “security” reasons, Palestinian Authority President Yasser Arafat was not allowed to attend Christmas services at the Church of the Nativity (which is built on the site of the manger where Christians believe Christ was born). Yet, the real reason was Israel felt that the Palestinian leader had not done enough to stop the intifada. A khaffiya, or Arabic headdress, marked the front pew where Chairman Arafat would not sit. Arafat’s goal was to show a sense of national solidarity to Palestinians in particular and the Arab world in general. This added to the reasons for his exclusion by the Israelis.

I’m a Christmas and Easter Catholic, but I felt an overwhelming religious aura in the church. My soul was speaking to me. I felt Jesus, but because of intifada, the thousands of Christians from all over the world wouldn’t feel what I felt and were barred from going to Bethlehem in 2002. Due to security reasons, the Israeli Defense Forces, or IDF, prevented throngs of Christians and dignitaries from attending services in Bethlehem with a litany of barriers, checkpoints, curfews, and travel restrictions. Bethlehem should be a 10-minute drive from Jerusalem, but the IDF had sealed off the city, and we in the media had to drive for a half-hour around checkpoints and sneak past IDF sentries through the nearby town of Beit Jala. We jumped a small fence in the no man’s land between Israel and the West Bank while the troops smoked and glared at us as we scurried by.

It wasn’t supposed to be this way in Bethlehem. After Israeli Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin and then PLO Chairman Arafat shook hands on the White House lawn after signing the Oslo Accords in 1993, Bethlehem was on its way to becoming the destination for the world’s two billion plus Christians. The accords created a fragile peace between Arabs and Jews, and Bethlehem saw foreign investment in the holy city with hotels, restaurants and infrastructure being built. The jewel of the development was the five-star Intercontinental Hotel on the outskirts of town. The Palestinian Christians who run the town were sitting pretty. But, this is the Holy Land, and it’s no wonder many of my colleagues call it the Un-Holy Land. The Oslo Accords were flawed to begin with, and both Israeli and Palestinian hard-liners killed the plan because of too many “concessions.” When the second intifada started in 2000, Bethlehem became a flashpoint for violence. Oh, little town of Bethlehem

Bethlehem is also home to Rachel’s Tomb, one of the holiest sites of Judaism. It’s also the birthplace of David, Israel’s second king. Israeli settlers have homes on the city’s outskirts protected by heavily armed IDF troops, and some hard-liners say the only way they’ll leave is in a pine box. Palestinians (and most of the free world) consider the Israelis occupiers in the West Bank, and Bethlehem is in for the long haul occupation.

While Bethlehem proper isn’t a hotbed of Islamic radicalism, the small towns of Beit Jala and Beit Sabour next to the holy city are. When the intifada kicked off in 2000, fighting between Israeli settlers, the IDF and Islamic radicals mushroomed. It culminated in the spring of 2002 during Operation Defensive Shield, when the IDF chased scores of armed Palestinians into the Church of the Nativity. The attacks on Israeli settlements in and around Bethlehem had become too frequent, and the IDF went on the offensive. Israeli snipers took potshots at the Palestinians taking refuge in one of Christianity’s holiest places, and the militants fired back. The five-week standoff ended with a negotiated settlement – 13 militants were deported and 26 more were banished to the Gaza Strip. My friends who covered the siege at the Church of the Nativity said when they weren’t ducking bullets from the IDF-Palestinian firefights and snipers, they were ducking stones the local kids were throwing at anybody who was not Arab. Do you understand why some seasoned journalists call it the Un-Holy Land?

Post-Operation Defensive Shield Bethlehem was a mess. IDF aircraft had pancaked the Intercontinental Hotel parking garage, which was a haven for snipers. Buildings were pockmarked with bullet holes. It was depressing, if not dangerous to walk around. Shuttered and padlocked tourist shops, vacant hotels  and empty restaurants told a tale of failure – failure of a flawed peace plan, failure of moderates to assert control, failure to stop hate. My Christmas state of grace had worn off as I walked through Bethlehem’s unlit, ancient alleys and became disgusted with humankind. Most of the foreign investment had either been destroyed by the intifada, or crippled by no tourism. I met some CNN buddies who were consuming mass quantities of locally produced wine off Manger Square. Sometimes denial works.

Yet in thy dark streets shineth
The everlasting Light;
The hopes and fears
of all the years
Are met in thee tonight.
— Philip Brooks, “Oh Little Town of Bethlehem,” 1868

   

In 2007, Bethlehem looks fine on first glance.  I checked in with a seasoned Middle East correspondent who told me that the Intercontinental is fully booked for Christmas, and Israeli authorities are bullish on Bethlehem’s economy for 2008. He went on to say that violence is down, so tourism is up. But, when one looks below the surface, Bethlehem and bleak become the same word. Why? The wall.  Or, “The Israeli West Bank Barrier” as it’s known to wonks. It’s 436 miles long, and it basically separates Israel from Palestine. The United Nations, International Red Cross, Human Rights Watch, and just about any humanitarian group with a soul have condemned it. But, the bottom line is that the wall has prevented terror attacks, and Israel could care less about what the humanitarians think. I’ve covered the aftermath of two bus bombings in Tel Aviv, and when I saw Jewish holy men picking up body parts and placing them into bags, I could understand how the Israelis are indifferent to criticism when they consider any solution viable to this kind of senseless violence. (Another macabre spectacle at those bombing sites is Israeli authorities making bets on how far the head of the shaheed [martyr] traveled when the bomber detonated the suicide vest he was wearing. At one Tel Aviv bombing, the shaheed’s head had traveled nearly two city blocks).
   

The correspondent went on to say, “The wall has now been completed around the city, cutting much of it off from its farmland and from Jerusalem itself. And you may recall that Bethlehem is, basically, just a suburb of Jerusalem. The result is that the economy of Bethlehem has been kicked in the teeth – 20 or 30 times – and may never recover. It’s a more insidious form of oppression, and far less dramatic and media friendly than the Israeli rampage in the spring of 2002 – Operation Defensive Shield – but in some ways just as deadly.”
   

The wall makes it hard for tourists traveling to Bethlehem who must endure the usual checkpoints, roadblocks, etc., and life for residents living in Bethlehem has become impossible. The IDF occupies the West Bank and can turn off and on the spigot of tourism whenever it wants, so Bethlehem is not in control of its own economic destiny. As I talked to my Middle East correspondent friend, the conversation was very insightful, but very depressing.
   

“Another disturbing trend in Bethlehem is the fact that Christians – who used to make up a majority of the population – are leaving in droves. They now don’t make up more than 20 percent of the population. Propagandists like to claim that it’s largely the result of friction with Muslims, but that’s really just a smoke screen. There are tensions of course, but the real reason why so many are leaving is because economically, Bethlehem (and the West Bank in general) is being strangled by the wall.”
   

Bethlehem was supposed to be the model for coexistence between Palestinian Christians and Muslims. No wonder Arafat spent his Christmas evenings there when the occupiers allowed him. While the wall has deterred terrorism, it has ruined the Palestinian economy. People have nothing to live for, so they leave. My correspondent friend even sent me a picture of one of the three wise men going to see baby Jesus in Bethlehem, but he can’t get through because of the wall.

For Christ is born of Mary
And gathered all above
While mortals sleep,
the angels keep
Their watch of wondering love.

— Philip Brooks, “Oh Little Town of Bethlehem,” 1868

    I hope the angels are still looking out for Bethlehem. Those folks need all the help they can get.
    Merry Christmas, Bethlehem.

Matt McFetridge is a two-time Emmy Award-winning television producer who has covered 20 wars in 20 countries over 20 years. E-mail: This e-mail address is being protected from spam bots, you need JavaScript enabled to view it