Emma Williams

The hopes and fears of Bethlehem

From our UK edition

Before a certain baby was born there, Bethlehem was famous for its sweet water. Shepherd boys like the young David, king-to-be, herded their flocks into the town and drank from the fountain at the gates. Water, as well as Jesus Christ, helped shape Bethlehem’s story. Its aqueduct enabled nearby Jerusalem to function and expand as a city and pilgrimage site: every invader from the Seleucids to the Crusaders, the Mamluks, the Ottomans, the British and, in 1967, Israeli forces, has seized control of the water supply in order to take Jerusalem. As a result, Bethlehem was militarised from its early days. Having lived in Bethlehem for a number of years, Nicholas Blincoe knows the area intimately.

Damage limitation

From our UK edition

One of the most pitiful sights in conflict areas is the local prosthetics store, with its rows of artificial limbs, sized from adult down to tiny child. A poignant reminder that, whether fleeing a war or injured in one, the human body and mind are subjected to extreme damage. Imagine triggering an improvised explosive device (IED) that shreds your leg and sends shrapnel, soil and debris deep into your body. Would you be able to apply a tourniquet to your injured leg, to prevent bleeding out from severed arteries? Soldiers are trained to do this. Some wear tourniquets in position, ready to wind tight should the worst happen. Your village is shelled and every member of your family killed.

Trapped behind the wall

From our UK edition

As the slaughter in the Holy Land continues, Emma Williams reports on the miseries caused by Israel’s security barrier, and wonders whether there is any way out of the cycle of violence Last week yet more children were slaughtered in the Holy Land. Four little Israeli girls and their pregnant mother were gunned down by Palestinian terrorists on a settlement road in Gaza. Eleven Palestinian children were killed by the IDF, also in Gaza. ‘Nothing changes,’ said my Israeli host in Jerusalem as we left his home on our way to a restaurant. ‘We need something — God, do we need something — to pull us out of this madness.’ Some Palestinian children ran off into the bushes, scared.

The reek of injustice

From our UK edition

Emma Williams says good and conscientious Israelis live in denial of what is being done to the Palestinians Living in Jerusalem for the past two and a half years has meant living Israeli fear: the fear of taking children to school and hearing a suicide bomber detonate himself outside the school gates; of not wanting to go to a restaurant or bar or coffee shop for fear of being blown up; of hesitating to call Israeli friends for fear that one of their children had been killed in the latest Palestinian terrorist atrocity. Living in Jerusalem also means seeing the suffering imposed on three million Palestinians because of these fears.