In Pastoral in Palestine (pp. 72-88) I reported how the extension of “The City of David,” an archaeological site adjacent to Jerusalem’s Old City, and the introduction of settler households within the texture of the village of Silwan, were  combining to put pressure on its (traditionally Arab) residents to pack up and leave, so that the valley (Biblical Shiloh or Siloam, where Jesus restored a man’s sight) and the slopes on either side of it could be developed into a classier (and, of course, Jewish) neighborhood.  I quoted from a recent (and highly respectable) guide to Jerusalem by a British classicist, whose author seemed amused to report how, dating back to the 19th-century, British travelers in the Levant had concluded that the Silwanis were “a lawless set, credited with being the most unscrupulous ruffians in Palestine,” “fanatical vagabonds,” etc.  I had noted at the time that Omar, my teaching partner, an architect and city planner, had grown up there and that, though he might be considered a bit of a vagabond (he has architecture degrees from Bucharest and Berlin and a Ph.D. in planning from UC Irvine), he hadn’t ever struck me as either fanatical or unscrupulous.  Indeed, he has become a good friend.

Yesterday, after class, we picked up some pizza in Azariya (Biblical Bethany, where Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead), and took it to the house in Silwan where both Omar and his father grew up, which now finds itself wedged in among settlers.  Begun (by Omar’s grandfather) in the 1930s and enlarged, over the years, to accommodate an extended family, the house is a solid, stone structure with a splendid view over the valley.  Omar’s father, recently widowed, lives in a roomy upper story; Omar’s brother’s family lives beneath him.  There is a patio looking south and a glassed-in verandah, for winter lounging, on the eastern end, now abutted by a security fence belonging to the settlers next-door.

Take a closer look at the settlers’ patio and you’ll see not only their lawn chairs, outlined on the wire fence, but also, on the right of this next shot, the CCTV camera.  Omar’s father has the privilege of not only seeing his neighbors at close range but also of knowing that he is himself constantly seen by them.  Not exactly an incentive to entertain on his own terrace.  As for the settlers themselves, if they take the trouble to keep video files, they now have a considerable stock of footage of an 84-year-old man, former student at the London School of Economics, teacher and school administrator all his life, who dresses in cardigans and slippers, for all the world like a retiree in a British suburb.

Omar’s father’s house is surrounded by mature fruit trees, an arbor and flower garden.  On its north side, at night, the trees partially obscure the lights of his new neighbors’ home, which themselves make strikingly visible the intervening metal fencing.

At the rate the City Of David, and its accompanying development, is making its way down the valley, it’s likely that Omar’s father will get to live out his life in the house he was born in.  Less likely that his son will.  What is certain is that before too long the “lawless” Silwanis will be replaced by another group of “unscrupulous vagabonds.”