Publishing in Passport

In the off-chance anyone RSS feeds this/checks, this is the pre-AP edited article that will be published in Passport Magazine on my Burch Fellowship in Israel.

Countdown to the real world.

The Dom: Peace, Empowerment, and Society

The Holy City, Jerusalem, al-Quds, Yerushalayim, holds religious significance for three major faiths, enrapturing the hearts, minds and spirituality of millions worldwide. Disputed, claimed, idealized, revitalized, expanded, and continually in the spotlight, it is at the center of one of the most convoluted conflicts in recent history. Over the past century, it has known four conquerors, each of which contributed and drastically shaped the character of this unique city. Today, its tumultuous history is only one factor contributing to the lingering political, social, and religious tensions that pervade every aspect of life in Jerusalem. While many claim rights and continue to fight for this coveted piece of land, a quiet, almost invisible community tucked away in the corner of the Old City has lived in Jerusalem for over 400 years. Neither Arab-Palestinian nor Jewish Israeli, they have struggled to outlast wars, changing governance, and cultural discrimination. It was for this community that I traveled to this city steeped in rich history yet plagued with continual conflict and division.

The Dom, or Domi, are the Gypsies of the Middle East. In Jerusalem there are about 1,000 who have faced economic, social, and cultural marginalization. Deemed the derogatory term ‘nawar’ by Arab-Palestinians and undifferentiated from Arabs by Jewish-Israelis, they are a culture ‘in between,’ accepted by neither. Under the leadership of one woman, the Dom struggle to establish equality and identity while simultaneously attempting to overcome the entrenched socio-economic problems confronting the community internally.

I was drawn to their distinctive narrative- a community stubbornly disengaged from the political situation, yet continually disturbed and formed by the political and social status of Jerusalem. How did they manage to remain separate? Or did they not? How did it affect their socio-economic growth? Who are they as a people? My guide on this journey was a Dom named Amoun Sleem. Amoun, a woman of formidable beauty and personable magnetism, is the key to this private and removed community. She established the Domari Society of the Gypsies in Jerusalem in 1999 to preserve their quickly disappearing cultural distinctiveness while improving their desperate socio-economic stagnation. Arabic-speaking and Muslim, they have largely assimilated in appearance to Arab-Palestinian culture (perpetuated to escape discrimination), although they remain distinctive in familial and community background. Domari, their language, is slowly disappearing with the older generations, and many children refuse to carry on what remains of their cultural practices. Further, beset with low levels of education and employment, the Dom are struggling to overcome deep-rooted poverty that reinforces the stereotypes of beggars and thieves. Less than 50% make it past middle school because of discrimination in the schools and no home support, and an astounding 80% of males are unemployed. Being known as Dom results in being spit on in the street, no upward mobility in occupational opportunities, and debilitating hereditary diseases resulting from inbreeding within the community.

In many ways, the Israeli-Palestinian conflict exacerbates the socio-economic problems that are typical for Gypsies all over the world (although its important to note that while the Roma in Europe in Dom in the Middle East both originated in India, the are not the same ethnic group). Much of the aid to the area is directed to either the Arab Palestinians or Jewish Israelis, and the restrictions on movement between the West Bank, Jerusalem, and the Gaza Strip has made it difficult to maintain family times, an integral part of Gypsy culture. Further, their choice to remain neutral and disengaged from the conflict has often earned them the animosity of both sides. Cooperation on economic issues leads to some members of the community being named collaborators by Arab Palestinians, a claim that can increase social isolation and even physical punishment. East Jerusalem, a majority Arab Palestinian population, was annexed by force to Israel in 1967. Residents live in a system characterized as ‘separate and unequal,’ with limited funding for infrastructure, schools, and other basic services. As described to me in an interview with a former councilwoman in Jerusalem, most cannot get mail on a regular basis, because there are no mailboxes in East Jerusalem.

I spent two months volunteering in the Domari center, working alongside Amoun teaching English, researching, and assisting in non-profit administrative tasks. I had gone in with a grand research plan, involving oral histories, extensive research, and one-of-a-kind conclusions. Yet what I found was a woman transcending all cultural and societal norms to advance her community. She is facing both internal and external resistance-the community is internally divided and defiant to change-but she forges ahead to ensure that the next generation of Dom children can be proud of being Gypsy as they earn degrees to be doctors and professors. It is a dream that she embraces daily as she faces continual setbacks and imposed limitations. Here was a woman that refused to beg on the streets, instead deciding to generate income by selling postcards to tourists as a young child, where she picked up English. While many Dom choose to hide their identity, she thrived on embracing and bolstering it.
It is impossible to describe all that I learned from my experience- I found a second family among the Sleems, but I also found that my goal of arming a population with a voice through oral histories was not appropriate, because this is a population, outside of Amoun, who purposefully resists having that voice captured. Yet through her, this community has hope. I witnessed her forceful personality confront the political and social forces withstanding her, often triumphantly. She refused to resign to being ‘the Arabs’ Arab,’ the lowest of the low in Israeli and Palestinian society.

For every Dom I talked to, Jerusalem was simply their home. It is where their grandparents lived, their parents raised them, and where they hope to bring up their children. As they continue to struggle to find their place, preserve their cultural heritage, and overcome the internal problems, their identity is now intricately tied to the fate of this city- whatever it may be.