The Buds of Palestine

Adapted from an Amman taxi driver's lengthy monologue.

The trees are in bloom in Palestine, and they have been for thirty-two years.

When I left everything was lush, and though thirty years have gone by, there has been no bomb that has robbed Palestine of its splendor, that has imprinted anything but lushness upon its soil. The air in Palestine blows with the blessing of divinity, and thus will triumph over the petty smoke of men. Though the shadow of the sword is large upon the fields of Canaan, no arms can vanquish them. For God's shield meets them always.

And after thirty years the trees must still be in bloom.

Perhaps there are more trees now, after those buds became flowers and those flowers became fruit. They decayed and from their seeds were born new trees. Palestine is the same; it has died thousands of times over thousands of years, but it always emerges again. It is a sheet of earth connecting the river with the sea, cradled in the breast of divinity; it is God's to treasure and to dote upon. No exodus nor war has changed that.

The land is more powerful than its occupants, just as it always was; it alone could withstand the stain of war and the ravages of politics. Though its people perish, its soil still covers them like it covers the bones of the prophets. There is no tribe, no faith that can ever rule Palestine. Palestine is God's to rule.

But perhaps the trees have died.

Perhaps upon the land there is famine like in the old days, when Joseph took his family south for abundance and brought them into servitude. Perhaps there is nothing there but God's presence, flooding the land like He did the earth in its infancy, crushing its palms like pillars falling beneath temples. Perhaps therein is the riddle that explains why the land that radiates holiness is the stage upon which unholiness is waged.

It may be these things are true, because I have not been there for thirty-two years. And perhaps I never will again.

Perhaps nothing blooms in Palestine. Perhaps only the dust blows.